“So,” Brandon said, beaming with pride, “what do you think? Can you read them?”

  Mogritas fondled the tablet lovingly, apparently he could see in the dark as well as Brandon. “Oh, yes,” he replied. “I can read them.” He set the tablet down carefully and walked to one of the stacks of books. “These will hold the key I’ve been looking for, I’m sure of it. You’ve done very well, Brandon, very well indeed.”

  Brandon smiled broadly at the praise. “Do you think I’ll be able to learn to do magic like the dragons did?”

  “Most assuredly,” Mogritas said, scanning the titles inscribed on the book spines. “All that and more, I have no doubt. First we’ll need to record and catalog as much of this as possible. The dragons must have had servants to take care of this.” He held up a book. “Pen and ink are not very useful to claws and talons.”

  Brandon hadn’t thought of that before. “Maybe the stone tablets were written by the dragons, and the books were made by others.”

  “Very possible. Do I have your permission to come and go with some of these?” Mogritas asked him.

  Brandon was surprised and pleased he would even ask. “Of course! I’m excited to know what might be in them. I want to know how the dragons lived and what they could do. I feel so lost sometimes.”

  “I understand my boy, truly. You and I are kindred spirits, of a sort. I, too, am the only one of my kind.”

  Brandon’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re the only one who can change forms like that?”

  Mogritas nodded. “So maybe I can do us both a favor by learning what is hidden in these texts. Find some history and a sense of family for each of us.”

  Brandon grinned. “Awesome!”

  Mogritas smiled back. “Indeed.”

  * * * *

  Days passed and Mogritas came and went with frequency, carrying books and tablets back and forth. Occasionally, Mogritas would stop and share some tidbit of dragon lore with him, and Brandon grew more excited the library would hold many answers for him. He also grew more sure he had made the right decision, not only in allowing Mogritas access to the library, but also in coming to the fortress instead of following Crank and the others to Seren’naie. How could he have a better teacher about being a dragon than the dragons themselves? And he would never have found the library if it hadn’t been for Mogritas and his generosity.

  Brandon returned to the fortress a few times to spend time with Mike and Scott, but soon found they had all gone through too many changes — himself especially — to be as close as they were. They couldn’t do the same things they had before, like play football or other sports.

  Brandon became restless and bored. Mogritas’s people had created a large water basin for him which he carried to his cave. It had a smaller bucket he could hold with his back feet and drag through the river to fill up, then fly back and dump into the basin. It took about six trips to fill the first time, but then he always had some water to drink and it was easy to fly down for a bucketful to replenish it. Once that project was completed, however, he found he had very little to occupy his time.

  Mogritas came one day, ferrying books, and stopped to talk to Brandon about something he’d found.

  “I think I understand how the dragons created their illusions, Brandon,” he told him. “It seems very similar to the Nomenstrastenai ability to camouflage themselves when frightened, but on a more conscious level.”

  Mogritas outlined some mental exercises for Brandon to practice and he was eager to give them a try.

  “I will caution you, however,” Mogritas said, “not all dragons were able to do this from what I can determine, so it may take a great deal of time to master, or you may not be able to perform the magic at all.”

  “I understand, but I’ve been looking for something to do and this will work perfectly,” Brandon replied enthusiastically.

  Mogritas smiled and said, “Excellent. I will keep you apprised of any more findings, and you keep me informed of your progress.” He then went down the tunnel to exchange the books he brought with him for new ones.

  Brandon sat in a corner to begin his exercises. Most of them were designed to enhance his concentration, and he also needed to develop the ability to put himself in a trancelike state. He focused himself so completely, he didn’t even notice when Mogritas left the cave later in the day.

  26

  Jenni was all alone in the guest house.

  Over the past several days, one or two at a time, all her friends had been taken away by different officials.

  Sara had been the first to go. Captain Herina herself had come and taken Sara to meet more of the Saromstrastenai and start her “training,” whatever that was to be. Sara had sent a short note a couple of days ago, telling Jenni she was doing well, but they were working her so hard that she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, and there hadn’t been any time to come visit. Hopefully she could soon.

  The day after Sara left the guest house, some Elvorstrastenai came in the morning to collect Marco and Carrie. Then in the afternoon, a Faerstrastenai, riding a wolf, came for Tori and Faith, and gave instructions to Rachael and the twins, who flew off as well.

  Two days later, a Nomenstrastenai arrived to talk to Crank and Denny. They visited in the sitting room for most of the morning before coming up to get their things and leave the house. The next day, Denny came back to get Matt, Charles, and Bonnie. He said the Nomenstrastenai were very curious about their ability to communicate with the spirits.

  That had left Jenni alone with Matron Zalandra, and she wasn’t very good company.

  After a couple of days being cooped up in the guest house with nothing to do, waiting for a summons that didn’t appear to be coming, Jenni decided to explore the city on her own.

  She discovered Seren’naie was indeed circular in shape. Basically, it was like a doughnut, with the hole being filled by the amazing stone and crystal spires. The outer ring was divided neatly by canals into four equal sections. The northern area, where the guest house was located, was occupied by the Elvorstrastenai. The east and west sections were used by the Faerstrastenai and Nomenstrastenai, respectively. Gobinstratstorai inhabited the southern portion. Only rarely did she see someone of a different race in another section of the city.

  Wide, arched bridges made of stone, like most everything else, crossed the midpoints of the canals dividing each section. The center hub was also surrounded by a canal, spanned by a bridge at each cardinal point. Water from the river flowed into the canals from the northwest, where they had entered on their boat. An exiting canal ran to the southwest, back to the river, making sure the water in the city didn’t stagnate and stayed at a constant level.

  Each quarter of the city had its own markets and industry, but the real activity took place in the middle, where everyone mixed. She learned that a council, composed of members from all the races, governed Seren’naie. They met and did business in one of the central towers. Other buildings were places of learning — many citizens devoted their time and energy to creating music and other works of art.

  Jenni was unable to read any of the signs or placards on the buildings, so she didn’t go into many. She just wandered the streets, marveling at the architecture and engineering needed to create such structures in a world without machinery as she knew it.

  She got hungry on the first day of her explorations and found a street vendor with some delicious-looking glazed fruit. She realized, however, she had no way to pay for anything, and tried to explain it to the vendor. He seemed unable to grasp the concept of money, and simply gave her the meal. She thanked him and wondered how a world could exist without some sort of currency. It was something she would have to ask — if she ever got the chance to meet and talk with anyone at length anyway.

  After dinner on the second day of her jaunts about the city, she sat in her room at the guest house, organizing all the extra supplies that the others had left in her care, when there was a knock at her door.

&nbsp
; She opened it to find Crank looking up at her. Jenni squealed with delight and dropped to her knees, hugging him fiercely. Crank laughed and hugged her back.

  “Oh my gosh it’s so good to see you!” Jenni said after they broke their embrace.

  “And you Jenni, I have missed you,” Crank said, but Jenni sensed something was wrong.

  “You seem sad, what happened?”

  Crank sighed and sat on the floor with her. “The Nomenstrastenai don’t have a place for me here any more than they did at home.”

  Jenni was upset and disappointed for him. “What about the Elvorstrastenai? Can’t they help you learn about animals and plants?”

  Crank shook his head. “I asked, but everywhere I went, the answer was ‘That’s just not done’ or something to that effect.” He sighed and said, “I thought things would be different here.”

  Jenni wrapped her arms around him again and they sat together for a while.

  All the marvels she had witnessed in her travels in this world seemed tainted by this rigid system of duties and jobs. Surely, Crank couldn’t be the only person who didn’t fit neatly into the role he was given.

  He parted from her and said, “I don’t know where else to go, or what to do.”

  “Well, you’re not leaving me again, that’s for sure!” Jenni was determined to help her friend somehow. “We’ll figure out something, together.”

  He smiled and blushed. “I’ve missed you, Jenni.”

  She hugged him again. “I’ve missed you, too.” Jenni gave him a final squeeze and said, “Now, help me sort through all this junk we have.” She waved her arms around the room filled with clothing and electronics and giggled.

  Crank laughed. “Okay, I can do that.”

  * * * *

  The next morning, after breakfast, a tall Elvorstrastenai man walked into the sitting room of the guest house. He had blonde hair and green eyes and wore a gray shirt and pants, with a light jacket that was dark maroon. The jacket had some sort of badge embroidered on the lapel. He looked at Crank, then Jenni and asked, “Are you the one known as Jenni?”

  Jenni nodded.

  “If you would please come with me,” he said and waved toward the door.

  “What about my things? Should I take them?”

  He shook his head. “Matron Zalandra will see to them if it becomes necessary.” He turned and opened the door.

  Jenni took Crank’s hand. “C’mon, let’s go then.”

  The Elvorstrastenai looked back. “The summons was only for you, Jenni.”

  Jenni straightened. “Well either he comes with me, or I’m not going.” Crank stared at her in surprise.

  The official pursed his lips and then relented. “Very well, follow me please.”

  They exited onto the street and their guide led them to the center of the city.

  Jenni lifted Crank onto her shoulders so he wouldn’t have to run to keep up. He patted her hand in thanks.

  Soon they found themselves at the heart of Seren’naie. A huge domed building loomed before them with a crystal tower jutting from the top at least thirty stories high. Jenni could see figures throughout the tower, moving like ants in an ant farm at various tasks.

  They climbed a set of stone steps into the dome. It looked like a football stadium from the outside, and the inside continued the theme. People of all shapes and sizes wandered around the outer ring. Farther in, Jenni could see a large open area, sunk into the floor, with seating for hundreds, if not thousands, surrounding a stage in the middle. The roof transitioned from stone to crystal so sunlight illuminated the stadium and stage. The very center of the roof held a large circular section of stone again, probably the width of the tower that rose from the top of the structure. Jenni could see several walkways extending from areas around the dome toward the central stone at the peak of the roof.

  Their guide, evidently used to the reaction the building produced, was courteous enough to give them time to gawk for a minute, then showed them over to a platform at the edge of the dome.

  He stepped on and beckoned them to follow. “Be sure to hold onto the railing,” he said.

  A moment later, the platform smoothly slid up the curved wall of the dome.

  Crank panicked for a second and almost let go, but Jenni held his other hand to steady him.

  They reached one of the walkways Jenni had seen before and the platform stopped. They stepped off and the guide strode purposefully toward the center, which, Jenni could now see, extended down from the roof several feet. She had a mild sense of vertigo looking down and quickly refocused her vision on the stone circle in front of her.

  She held tightly onto Crank’s hand and said, “Keep your eyes forward, don’t look down.”

  Crank nodded quickly. “You won’t have to tell me that twice.”

  The summer sun shined brightly through the crystal roof, but, strangely, the interior was not hot. Jenni wondered again at the construction prowess needed to create such a building.

  They reached the end and walked through a doorway. The center section was hollow, fifty or sixty feet across, and held four more platforms in the middle. Each platform was connected somehow to a single stone shaft, about two feet thick, rising up into the tower above.

  Their guide stepped onto one of the platforms and Jenni and Crank did likewise, knowing more what to expect.

  Each floor and ceiling was made of a darker crystal or stone, which helped with some of the feelings of vertigo once they had climbed a few floors. The outer walls, however, were completely transparent. Jenni got brief glimpses of the city and surrounding countryside as they glided through each floor.

  They didn’t stop until they had almost reached the top. Their guide motioned for them to step off and said, “Wait here please, he will be down shortly.” Then he rode the platform down, leaving Jenni and Crank alone with an amazing view.

  This floor of the tower was open across the entire width. There was a large oval table in front of them. Chairs surrounded it, made of a dark wood, unusual since they were not made of stone. Jenni approached and saw the table was formed from a monstrous piece of agate, polished to a high sheen. Swirls of different colors of brown and some clear crystal formations appeared within. It was probably fifteen feet long and Jenni had never seen anything like it.

  Looking out the window/walls — Jenni wasn’t sure what to call them — she felt like she could see the whole world. To the north, lay the enormous Lodir’naie forest. She thought briefly with sadness of Ms. Pap, now a part of that fantastic entity. The mile-wide Baer’naie river flowed out of the forest and ran to the west of the city, heading south, presumably to an ocean somewhere. To the east, Jenni could see a vast plain, some of which near the city had been cultivated and she could also see herds of grazing animals wandering through the rich grasses.

  Crank touched her hand and Jenni turned to see another figure standing in the room with them.

  He was of Elvorstrastenai stock, but looked much older than any other she’d seen. His long hair had gone silvery gray, almost white, and he had a closely cropped beard of white whiskers. His eyes were a piercing orange-yellow, where most she had seen had been green or brown. He wore robes that were gray in color, like that of their guide, and were trimmed with maroon embroidery on the lapels and around the cuffs of the sleeves. His hands were clasped in front of him, hidden by his sleeves, and he wore a simple smile that seemed open and honest. Jenni hoped her first impressions were right, at least.

  She smiled back and flushed with embarrassment, though she didn’t really know why.

  “Greetings, Jenni,” he said and stepped forward to offer his hand. “I am called Ba’ize.”

  Jenni met him and shook his hand automatically before remembering it was not a customary greeting on Mother. He must have seen the confusion on her face and continued. “I was briefed on some of your customs. Please, let’s sit and visit.” He indicated the chairs around the big table. Jenni took the one closest to her and Crank climbed up on
one to her right. Ba’ize pulled the one to her left out slightly and sat.

  “Are you hungry or thirsty?” Jenni and Crank both shook their heads. “Very well, then. Please, tell me about yourselves.”

  Jenni let out a breath and laughed. “Wow, where do I start?”

  Ba’ize smiled and chuckled with her. “The beginning is usually best.”

  So, Jenni told their tale, with help from Crank. She spoke of the field trip, their uncertainties and fears, and the hardships that befell them in their first few days. She told of their first meeting with Crank and their subsequent flight to his village. She related the need to leave some of their group behind to be cared for by Crank’s people, and wondered again what had happened to Deena and the others.

  Jenni talked about the changes that occurred to them, how Brandon had disappeared, and reappeared at their time of greatest need — only to take several of their number and fly off again. She told of the bravery of Mrs. Osorio and her sacrifice so the rest might flee into the forest. And she tearfully spoke of Ms. Pap and her final transformation into a tree of the Lodir’naie.

  She described their passage through the forest, their discovery of Matt’s change, and reunion with Charles. Jenni talked briefly about their fight in the river with the water spirits, and finally about how they had built the boat which brought them to Seren’naie.

  Some time during her story, Ba’ize called down for refreshments, and they ate and drank between the last few passages of Jenni’s tale.

  Ba’ize chewed thoughtfully on a piece of bread, then said, “So, as I understand it, all of you that came through from Earth have undergone transformations, except you, Jenni. Is that correct?”

  She nodded. “Well, I don’t know about Deena, and the others we left in Crank’s village, but yes, that’s right.”

  Crank touched her arm. “Jenni, you should tell him about your experience in the river, and your dream.”

  Ba’ize looked at her expectantly.

  Jenni sighed. She hadn’t wanted to say anything since the experiences hadn’t seemed real to her — not like the changes in everyone else. She felt though, that she could trust Ba’ize. He had been patient and understanding through her telling of their story, grandfatherly almost. So, she recounted their struggle in the river and how she had saved Crank from drowning. She described what she felt when she saw him being dragged under, and how quickly she had moved to save him. She also told of her flying dream and how she found her shirt torn open when she woke.

 
Alan Tucker's Novels