“I wasn’t going to hurt her.” Isla insisted.
“I believe you.” Eli said. “But you were also doing that thing where flames start erupting from your skin everywhere. That tends to intimidate some people.”
“It didn’t intimidate her.”
“No, but that’s because she’s seen some shit before. She was kidnapped and mind controlled by an elven prince, and forced to kill people. Before that she was homeless, a drug addict, and a Michelin-starred chef.” He paused for a moment. “To be honest, I’m not exactly sure which of those experiences made her difficult to scare, but she doesn’t tend to back down under pressure.”
“I like her.” Isla said finally. “She is braver than many so-called warriors I’ve met. I will not harm her.”
“I’ll make sure to tell her that.” Eli said, chuckling as he leaned back against a boulder.
After the incident in the kitchen, Eli thought it would be a good idea to get out of the castle with Isla to cool off – both figuratively and literally. Everyone else seemed to agree with that plan, and given that Minerva wouldn’t be done translating the spell until the following morning he proposed the two of them take a long flight together. They’d ended up in a clearing on top of a hill, deep in the wilderness of the high elven realm.
Eli craned his neck up, taking in the blanket of stars above them. “You picked a pretty spot for our date.”
“Thank you.” She replied, transforming one hand into a sharpened claw before carefully slicing off a piece of charred meat from the spit over the open fire pit in front of them. “My mother would have agreed – she loved the stars.”
“Really?” Eli asked as he took the still-smoldering meat in his bare hand. “Tell me about her.”
They’d been slowly eating like this for the last hour, carving pieces from the enormous slab of fire salamander as they cooked and ate them while they were still scalding hot. Isla told him that it tasted best that way, and after transforming into his burn-resistant desert elven form and trying it he found himself agreeing. The fact that the experience was rustic didn’t seem to bother Isla at all, so he decided to just go with it.
Tastes like chicken. He thought to himself as he chewed.
“She was protective.” Isla replied finally. “My father died when I was still in my egg, so I never knew him.”
“I’m sorry.” Eli said.
“Don’t be. I never knew any different, so his death did not sting.” She replied. “It impacted my mother though. Between his death and my brother’s, she became paranoid.”
“Hang on.” Eli held up his hand. “I remember the stories of your brother – he was the one who fought the orcs in Targe Maraz, and was lured into the mountain with the poisonous spiders.”
“And his bones were later raised by the liches, yes.” Isla said.
“Yeah, exactly. But the way Naz tells it, your brother terrorized the orcs hundreds of years ago.”
“Yes.”
“So if I can ask an indelicate question…how old are you?”
“It depends on what you count as my date of birth.” She replied. “I hatched from my egg not so long ago by draconic standards – perhaps 2 centuries. However, my egg was laid by my mother long before that.”
Eli looked down at her with one eyebrow raised. “How long do dragon eggs take to hatch?”
“It depends. We do not hatch until our mothers bathe us in their fire for 3 days and 3 nights. Until that happens, we can stay in our egg almost indefinitely – our magic sustains us.”
“And I take it you have no idea how long you were in your egg for?”
“No. I asked my mother once, but she never bothered with trivialities like keeping track of years. All I know is that I was laid sometime after my brother, but hatched after both my brother and father were dead.”
“Where did you live?”
“In a realm not so different from the wild elven one. My mother made her nest on a mountain – one that used to be covered in miles of forests.”
“Used to be?”
“My mother razed them to ensure that nothing dangerous could approach her nest without her seeing it long beforehand. It was her way of ensuring my safety.”
“That’s… intense.” Eli said finally.
“That was just the beginning. When I was born she drilled lessons into me relentlessly – survival, combat, magic, draconic history. She said that if I wanted to avoid the same fate as my brother and father, these were things that I needed to know.”
“She seems like she loved you very much.” Eli replied. “Even if she had a bit of an overbearing way of showing it.”
“She did.” Isla nodded. “In her rare unguarded moments she’d tell me a story about one of the artifacts in her hoard. I’d listen to them until I couldn’t stay awake anymore, then she’d sing me a lullaby to sleep. She taught me to sing too – something I’ll always associate with her.”
“That’s…really sweet, actually.” Eli admitted.
“Eventually I grew too old for her stories though. I wanted to experience some of the things she talked about for myself. We fought over it of course, but eventually I forced the issue and left. I found my way to the only portal in the realm and used it to leave on my own adventures. I returned regularly though, developing my own hoard next to hers.” She paused for a moment, gathering herself before continuing. “It worked well for a time, but one day I returned to find her preparing to leave. She refused to tell me where she was going, only to say that she’d been visited by someone and needed to deal with something from her past. She asked me to stay there and guard our hoards, then left.”
“What happened next?” Eli asked, enthralled by her story.
“I spent…years, decades, guarding our hoards. Truthfully I don’t know how long it was. You’ve heard me talk about how I gave myself over to my animalistic instincts for a time? That was during this period of my life. I lived off the land, not thinking about anything beyond that mountain.”
The admission of weakness from the proud dragon shocked Eli. “I’m so sorry you went through that. It sounds terrible, and lonely.”
“It would have been, if I allowed myself to think such thoughts. As it was I was barely more than a beast. My biggest concern was where my next meal would come from, or how I’d rearrange my hoard to sleep on top of it. If not for Athena, I would still be there.”
“How does Athena play into this?”
“She appeared to me in a vision. The experience after being alone for so long was jarring, to say the least. She told me of many things – of my brother’s bones, of a coming conflict, and most importantly of the fact that my mother was not coming back.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Some part of me realized long before that she was gone.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “I never would have believed her, but she somehow knew my true name – the one only my mother knew.”
“Isla if this is too painful to talk about-”
“No.” She insisted, wiping away a tear. “I want you to know the story.”
“Okay, just… take your time. I know what it’s like to lose a parent.”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
She took a moment to gather herself. “The more pertinent part of the vision was about the statue in my mother’s hoard though. Athena told me that my mother had been guarding it, as had her mother, and her mother’s mother. She never had the opportunity to pass it on to me though – which is why Athena had to step in.”
“Is that when you left your hoard to come look for your brother’s bones?”
“Not immediately. I’d spent so long as a dragon that some of my other skills had atrophied. It took me almost a month to relearn how to transform back, and several weeks after that to recall some of my magical abilities. My combat skills were out of practice as well – which is the only reason I was caught off guard by those lizardkin in Targe Maraz.”
Eli cocked one eyebrow. “If that was you while you’re out of practice, I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ll be like once you get back to full power. You’re going to be a force to be reckoned with.”
“Dragons are always a force to be reckoned with.” She grinned savagely at him. “But yes – I am still recovering some of the skills which dulled with time. In a few months, perhaps a year, I will be back at full strength.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing that.” Eli said, kissing her on the top of her head.
“And when I am, I’m going to find out what happened to my mother. She didn’t die of old age – dragons can live for thousands of years – and she was far too cunning and powerful to be killed by something by accident. Someone or something murdered her, and I am going to track them down and make sure they die too.” She paused and looked up at him. “I hope that on that day, you’ll come with me and help me see it done.”
“I’ll be right beside you.” Eli promised.
She kissed him softly before smiling. “Thank you. Now could we change the subject to something else? Let’s not let this topic sour our evening together.”
“Of course.” Eli nodded. “What would you like to talk about?”
“Do you think that Minerva’s book will hold the secret to opening the portal?” She asked.
Eli’s shoulders slumped slightly. “Honestly? I don’t think so.”
“Why do you say that?”
“She mentioned that the portal is guarded by something secret, something only a human could solve. It wouldn’t be much of a secret if it was written down though, would it?”
“I suppose.” She admitted. “Have you given any thought as to what the human-only secret might be?”
“A little, while we were flying here.” Eli responded. “I was thinking something to do with our DNA? Or maybe I need to drain my mana entirely before I can summon the portal, because humans have no natural mana?”
Isla considered the possibilities for a moment. “That…doesn’t seem right. She said the portal address is protected by a safeguard that only a human would know. Not the portal itself.”
“But the address was protected by a safeguard – the statue in the council chambers.” Eli protested, referring to the puzzle they solved to get the address.
“Anyone with the statue and a dragon on their side could have solved that.” Isla countered. “You said it’s something that only a human could solve.”
Eli nodded and furrowed his brow. As he did, Isla began to wordlessly hum the song they heard in the council chambers. He closed his eyes and listened, doing his best to visualize the way the notes translated into the set of coordinates required for the portal to successfully open. When she stopped suddenly he opened his eyes and cocked his eyebrow.
“What is it?”
“You made a face.” She said, looking at him.
“No I didn’t.” He countered.
“Yes, you did.”
He thought about it for a moment. “I did?”
“Yes, you did.” She insisted. “You always do at that part of the song.”
He thought about it for a second before shrugging. “It’s just that there’s a few notes that seem off.”
“I have perfect pitch. I’m singing them correctly.” She said.
“No, it’s not that you’re off.” He clarified hurriedly. “It’s that the song is off.”
“Explain.” She demanded, moving away and turning to face him. “Do you know this song from somewhere else?”
“No, it’s not that. It’s…okay, do you know what the pentatonic scale is?”
“No.”
“It’s a series of 5 notes, repeated at every possible octave. It was given its name by the Greeks, but by most accounts it’s been around a lot longer – humans have discovered instruments thousands of years old which were based around the pentatonic scale. It pre-dates humans discovering things like writing or agriculture.”
She cocked one eyebrow at him. “Humans developed this pentatonic scale before they learned to write?”
Eli shook his head. “We didn’t really develop it so much as we discovered it. It’s something innate to humans, and it works across cultures too. For some reason nobody really understands, you can put a bunch of humans from all around the world in a room and sing them 2-3 notes of the scale and they’ll be able to sing the remaining notes, as well as transpose it into different octaves.”
“And the portal song is based on this idea?”
“Yes and no.” Eli replied. “The first few bars follow the same notes of the pentatonic scale, sure. But you get to that point in the song and it no longer follows the pattern. There are a few notes which don’t match.”
“Eli.” She said, taking both his hands. “Other races don’t have this knowledge. I didn’t feel that the notes were wrong – I just sang them exactly as I heard them.”
“You don’t?” Eli asked, genuinely surprised.
“No. Nor have I heard of something like this by any other race.”
He paused for a moment, furrowing his brow at her. “You’re not suggesting…”
“The pentatonic scale is something that only a human would know.”
Eli shook his head. “It can’t be that simple.”
“Why not? If you wanted to design a safeguard that only a human could decipher, why not make it something that only a human would detect to begin with?”
“That’s still a pretty big leap.” Eli countered, even as he felt the excitement growing within him. “What if the person trying to do the deciphering wasn’t a musician? I only know about the pentatonic scale because I play music.”
“Why would they have to be? You said it yourself – this knowledge is innate to humans, not just human musicians. It sounds like you’re almost…drawn to it, in a way. As if sooner or later – either on purpose or by accident – you would end up singing the correct version and opening the portal.”
Eli considered what she was saying, then stood. “I guess there’s one easy way to find out.”
“You want to try now?” She asked, standing next to him.
“No time like the present, and it’s easy enough to test. We’ll head back to Irandell, use the portal room to get to Earth, then try from there.”
“You don’t want to prepare food and supplies, just in case we get stuck there? And that’s assuming there isn’t anything overly dangerous on the other side.”
“We won’t actually go through the portal. We’re just going to try opening it. If it works, then we close it immediately.” He clarified. “Still though – you should be ready in case anything nasty tries to come through and attacks us.”
She grinned in response. “I’m always ready. Now, would you like to race back to the city?”
