Dragon Clan: In The Beginning

CHAPTER SIX

Seth cried as he dug a hole under the same palm tree Sunset sat under his last day. Seth had only known the old man a few days, but in that time, had come to understand all but his sense of humor. Seth dug the hole deep, placed the old man carefully inside and filled it. He stood the fishing spear in the ground as a marker, although he wouldn’t forget where the grave was.

Standing alone when finished brought more tears, but Seth came to realize they flowed more for him and his bleak future than the man wishing to be called Sunset. The choice of the new name made sense, now. Seth believed he should have understood from the beginning and offered more support. While he hadn’t come right out and told Seth he planned to die here, there had been enough clues.

The following days became a blur of activity. Winter drew nearer. The air chilled if the ground didn’t. After four days, Seth had filled one of the extra rooms in the cave from floor to ceiling with firewood. All the remaining apples were stored in bowls. He also gathered the carrots and onions. Each day he searched for more eggs along the edge of the meadow where the chickens gathered. He’d cobbled together a small smokehouse and killed a goat. The meat smoked over a low fire of applewood.

On a morning when the rain fell steadily, he sat in the comfort of the cave and took inventory of his life. He now had shelter, warm ground to sleep on, as well as a working fireplace and stove. Outside the door with a curtain of woven reeds, the goat smoked, and the second room of the cave held enough food to last a long time, if not a full winter. But if he continued, adding eggs, fish, and smoked another goat or sheep, he could survive.

On impulse, he rushed outside and through the door of the next cave. The iron bar pulled the door open, but like last time, the hinges fell apart, and he leaped out of the way as it fell. Inside the room felt dry and warm. Much like Sunset’s old home, he consciously had decided to refer to the old man as Sunset, as a measure of respect. He had asked to be called by the new name, and as hard as it was to think of him as Sunset, Seth was determined to try if that was what Dawn wished.

Seth started a systematic search of the cave. He discovered a rusted blade that broke in half when he tried to clean it. But the front of the blade felt solid. It could tip a spear. He slipped it into the leather bag he used for his purse. After wading through the rubble, rotted wood, and disintegrating clothing, he left and went to the next cave.

The lower half of the door had broken, or chewed by animals, and inside stunk from generations of animals living there. He saw nothing of value and tired of holding his breath, and quickly moved on to the next. Some caves were larger than others, but all were depressing in the disintegration of the contents and the obviously lost dreams of the long dead inhabitants. Everything in them recalled that they were more than caves. They had been homes.

While most were useless, he did find a few pieces of flint, bars of iron, and a bowl filled with arrow tips.

The morning rain finally quit, and Seth walked out to the meadow in from of the caves and stood, looking at the missing doors, and the vacant doorways, like rectangular eyes watching him. He threw his head back and shouted, “I need to talk and get advice, but nobody is here. So, Sunset, I’m going to talk to you.”

That decision made, he felt better until an unnerving thought came. He said, “Sunset, I’d appreciate it if you don’t answer me.”

As he moved around the clearing at the base of the mountain, he continued to talk to Sunset. That afternoon he decided to build a bench to sit on, and maybe a second one in the kitchen beside the warm fire. When he was young and living with his mother, they had all sat near the fire and talked about their hopes and problems. He found and returned to his cave, four branches with crotches in them to use as braces for the benches.

In the main room, he dug four holes and stood the branches up before filling them in. The reeds he used for weaving let him tie cross pieces between them, but he thought about leather replacing the reeds. It was stronger and would last. He placed straight poles in the crotches and had a raised seat, of sorts. But it was just a frame, and he intended to finish it as the days turned colder.

The remains of the goat he’d killed were outside near the smokehouse, and he cursed himself. He should have been more aware of the uses for it. At the site, insects swarmed, and a quick look confirmed his suspicions. In his hurry to butcher the animal for meat, he hadn’t left much of the skin intact. Tanning the skin would have given him a covering for his bed, or perhaps a cloak. The bones had uses and in the future, he’d leave them out in the air for insects to clean. Instead, he buried the remains and thought back to his family and how they did things.

Skins needed pee and animal brains for proper tanning. Lots of pee, he remembered. He’d scrape the inside of a hide as clean as possible and use a mixture of pee and animal brains to coat it for a few days. Later, ash and water to soak it and make it softer. He’d seen a large bowl in one of the caves and carried it back to his cave. Another frame similar to the bench could be used to stake out a skin while it dried. He would leave the fur on for warmth, but if he wanted to remove the fur, urine and wood ash soaked into it would soften the fur enough to be scraped off, but it was hard work.

However, he could soon have skins to warm him for the winter, as well as cutting leather strips to use for ties. He checked the meat still smoking, added more apple wood, and decided that he’d go hunting the following day, weather permitting.

The next morning broke clear and warm. Seth decided to start the day by exploring the island, a task he’d been avoiding, but one that needed to be done. Learning what else the island offered for winter, and his overall survival, took precedence over tanning hides. But not by much.

In the past few days, he’d been down to the salt water’s edge three times. He’d checked on the canoe, fished, and brought shellfish back to boil in water, along with carrots and onions. The resulting soup tasted better than expected. He’d even tossed in a little of the smoked meat for flavor.

“Today I’m going to explore the mountain,” he said, picturing Sunset in his mind as if he spoke directly to the old man.

“No, don’t try to talk me out of it,” he warned, as doubts filled him. He felt the chill in the breeze. He needed warmer clothes, and quickly, making the tanning more of a priority. A small trail wound up the side of the smoking mountain. As if angry that he traveled up it, the mountain trembled and belched more smoke. A low rumble warned him to return to the cave.

Seth ignored the warning. His family didn’t believe in such superstitions, but the Salt People did. He wondered if they still searched for him and the canoe. “Now, that thought scares me,” he said to Sunset. “Modoc will search for me until he dies and maybe after.”

The climb soon had him panting for breath, but with every step, he could see more of the island spread out below, including many new areas he hadn’t known existed. The meadow where the animals lived narrowed until a small pass opened into a wider valley three times the size. Even from the mountain, he could see several paths that animals had traveled, crisscrossing the valley, all leading to a small river that cut the valley in half.

“Sunset, that’s where I should go hunting, and you should have told me about it. Leave the animals living close to the caves for emergencies or when snow covers the ground.” He moved higher on the path, wondering who made it, and why it existed.

The vegetation thinned and finally disappeared, leaving him to move over a jumble of black rocks of all sizes, but the trace of a path continued upward, wrapping around the mountain until he could no longer see the caves or even the meadow in front of them. However, he could see more of the unknown portions of the island, and his curiosity was piqued. Many feet had traveled the mountain to make a path. It had to lead somewhere.

A smaller mountain dominated the other end of the island. However, no more smoke rose from the summit. Beyond that spread more of the sea. At the very edge of the world where the sky met the air, a smudge of purple caught his attention. It was the mainland. That’s where we came from, Sunset.

All that way in a leaky canoe. It seemed impossible. Even though he could see the far off land, the distance made him feel safe. With a chuckle, he said aloud as he remembered Sunset telling him, “Who in their right minds would ever come here?”

The trace of path continued wrapping around the mountain and climbing. The mountainside grew steeper. Looking further up, it looked no closer to the top. The path didn’t seem to be climbing anymore. It moved level, twisting around the slopes until he came to a place where the side of the mountain fell away in a sheer cliff.

The path took him only a few more steps, to where a jumble of boulders lay on top of each other, leaving small cave-like spaces between. Many were large enough for two or three men to enter. Seabirds called and looked at him. As they took notice, the seabirds fled. Dozens, maybe hundreds flew from nests in the cracks and crannies. White birds. Black ones, and most every other color as we moved closer. Each color and species occupied a section of the rocks with others of the same kind.

“That’s the reason for the path. More eggs gather up here, Sunset. Can’t have too many eggs, but I didn’t bring anything to carry them in.” He was on his knees looking between rocks at a nest when a dragon flew so close he heard the rustle of the wings.

A careful move to prevent alerting the dragon let him watch the magnificent creature. It circled the peaks and was returning; a large fish clutched in a hind claw. It landed on the cliff directly below, and Seth leaned out to see where. “It’s a dragon nest,” he told Sunset.

Woven of large branches and small trees, the nest clung to the side of the cliff in a natural cavity where the rock split directly below. The nest was so close he heard the crunching of the fish as the dragon tore it apart and swallowed. He smelled the rotten meat of past meals and the cliff below the nest coated with dragon excrement, a thin splatter that hit the rocks and oozed down before hardening. The white on the black rocks stood out as a warning to anyone, or anything. The stench warned anything possessing a nose to stay away.

Seth couldn’t tear his eyes away. After eating the meal, the dragon lifted her head and belched, almost looking at him. But she didn’t notice the boy clinging to the rocks as he leaned out to watch her every move. Her head darted in all directions, and then she leaped out into space, opening her wings at the same time. The wings caught the air as she fell almost out of sight, then ballooned as they filled with air and she flapped her wings to regain the altitude she’d lost. She flew higher.

She spotted Seth.

With a shriek of anger, loud enough to warn the entire island, she powered higher and circled, her head always turning to keep him pinned on the side of the cliff. She flew directly at him, her head stretched ahead on the long neck, her tooth-filled mouth open.

He snatched the broken blade of the knife from his purse and held it up. Her first pass missed him by a distance so small, he could almost reach out and touch her snout. She spun in the air and came from the other direction. He tried to make himself small and put the knife away. He might need two hands to climb away on hands and knees. He looked up at the protective jumble of boulders above, but they now looked as far away as the mainland. He looked for a route down the cliff, to either side or up. Nothing seemed possible. He was exposed with no safety in sight.

She flew right at him this time. Seth threw his arms up instinctively—and in letting go of his handholds, slid down the cliff a dozen steps, barely recovering enough to catch himself on an outcrop of rock. But the slide saved him. She had missed, and now she circled again, her red eyes tracking his every move.

He couldn’t climb higher, even if she hadn’t been there. The rock wall above was almost straight up. There were no other outcrops in reach. She was returning.

Below him, he spotted a small ridge, wide enough to stand on. It led off to his left. To reach it, he’d have to jump the height of three men standing on each other’s shoulders, but the distance was not too great when compared to an attacking dragon. He could probably do it. The problem was jumping and missing the ridge. If he missed or slipped with the leap, he saw nothing below until reaching the trees of the valley floor.

Her wings beat closer. She shrieked at Seth in fury, snapping her mouth closed as if practicing eating him. A single glance told him that in his exposed location she wouldn’t miss this time. He leaped.

Sand and small rocks coated the ridge, and both of his feet skidded when they touched. He grabbed at air but managed to catch his balance. The dragon screamed in frustration, but this time, it was answered. Another dragon must have heard her calls and flew over the water to the island. He feared it would join in the attack.

“Now there’s two of them,” he talked to Sunset, hoping for inspiration. Resigned to his fate, he said, “I’m coming to join you real soon.”

But the mother dragon spun away from him and screamed even louder, if possible. She changed direction and headed to intercept the other dragon. The skin of the second dragon reflected a tinge of green, while the original was pure black. They approached each other at impossibly fast speeds, both with talons extended, teeth bared.

They crashed together in midair, each grabbing the other with sharp talons and ripping the skin and flesh. They fell apart and lined up to attack again.

Seth pulled his eyes from their fight and returned to his situation. He stood on a ledge that offered no escape, and only one direction to go. He ran away from the fight, down the ridge until it came to an abrupt end directly above the dragon’s nest.

The nest contained an egg, larger than a melon. Excrement coated the cliff below the nest, and he saw no way down, but one glance over his shoulder told him the black dragon, the mother of the egg, was winning the fight and would soon return to him.

There might be a place to hide under the nest until he could climb the rest of the way down. He started to climb using the few handholds on the smooth rock face, and he slipped.