The next story is one that takes place in the same graveyard as in the Snapdragons tale. But some years further along in time. Lord Tapas bids us present our tales in “bitesized chunks.” Hence, this particular story shall be delivered in two parts. It’s not my fault. It may need to happen again, unless Gentle Readers prevail upon me otherwise. – The Scrivener

AGNES MEETS A DRAGON

A girl sat quietly, motionlessly, in an old graveyard. The place was familiar to her. She had held vigil here before but tonight, instead of waiting and watching from afar, she was atop the small hill near the graveyard's center. Close by her grandfather's memorial.

Darkness fell hours ago and just before sunset she had secreted herself in a previously scouted-out hiding spot. Tonight, she intended to secretly overhear what transpired instead of only seeing distant glimpses in the darkness.

Snuggled under the leaning of a partly fallen memorial stone, partly hidden by grown-up weeds and shrub limbs, her initial heart-thumping excitement was gone and she had grown stiff and tired. She had supplied herself with some food and water but there was little she could do against the boredom of stillness. In spite of all her intentions, she fell asleep.

She startled awake to a great gust of air blowing around her. Leaf debris and dust invaded her tiny shelter. She closed her eyes tight against the dust and stifled a sneeze from dust that also sought to invade her nose. Just the tiniest squeek slipped out. It was still dark, she noted with relief, before she realized it was no natural wind blowing, and what must have just happened. The heart-thumping excitement returned.

Her excitement quickly turned to dismay when it suddenly occurred to her the commotion was that of a departure instead of an arrival… and that the sudden quiet marked the end of the event she came to witness. But in another moment that fear was dispelled, to be replaced with a new one as a voice came out of the darkness. Not a human voice but one that might have been featured in nightmares.

"You’ve plucked up your courage, have you?"

She remained quiet, hoping her planned stealth may yet succeed, yet knowing it could not. But what else could one do, half-frozen in fear, except emulate the little mouse that lies still and quiet even when the eyes of the hawk are already fixed upon it.

The rumbly voice sounded again. “Remain where you are, if you wish, but I can smell you. And it's not as if I haven't seen you at other times. We have a little history together, do we not?”

Tears began to well up in her eyes. She had failed. It was ruined. What should she do now??

“I smell fear. Do you fear to face a dragon? Very well, perhaps this doubtless familiar form will be less intimidating.”

There was a strange rustling sound, suggestive of a collapsing tent. The voice that spoke next was different, much softer and feminine. “It was pleasing to him, once.”

A moment later there was a pop followed by a sudden flickering light. “Come out, little one. See? I've made us a little fire so you need not face your fears in the darkness. I won’t harm you.”

The girl considered briefly if there were alternatives. But there were none. So she screwed up the last of her courage and answered, “Alright, then.”

She crept stiffly out of her niche, stood slowly and somewhat unsteadily on her half-asleep legs, and walked carefully toward a little fire that burned pleasantly on the ground without wood or any other visible fuel. Of course, it spoiled her night vision.

She stopped and stared all around for the source of the voice. Then a tall form wrapped in black slowly stepped closer to the fire, becoming gradually visible to her on the other side of the firelight.

Slender and pale the creature was, with long, straight black hair from which bone-white horns curled like a ram. Catlike eyes that sometimes reflected red were set in a narrow face marked with patterns and glittering jewels. Pale hands showed from a black robe, the long, slender fingers ending in polished black talons that the child knew instinctively were sharp as knives.

“Do I startle you? This form isn't dragon… but it isn't precisely human.”

The child replied in an almost-whisper, “You're beautiful! As beautiful as he said.”

The creature blinked three times quickly and several of the girl's heartbeats passed before it spoke again. “He told you that, did he?”

“Often.”

The creature glanced back to the tall gravestone behind her and then back again. “Sit,” it commanded. It's black robe swirled and suddenly it was settled on the ground as if to make the first move and set its smaller guest at ease. The girl sat down too, so they faced each other across the flames.

“Your grandfather called me Ember. You may do the same. What are you called?”

“I know your name. Mother named me Agnes. For her mother. But whenever Grandfather said it, he always made it sound like Ignis. That's Latin for fire.” She paused a second, then said brightly, “Get it?”

“A reference to me?”

“Um hmm. But…” Her bright voice became flatter, accusing. “He also told me once that the word means something about a false hope. Like a will-o'-th'-wisp. Foxfire. Something that seems warm and promising... but isn't.”

“I see. And you think that also refers to me,” Ember said coldly. It was not stated as a question, so she just continued staring at the fantastic form. “You resemble him. You seem to have some of his courage, as well.”

“Mom sometimes said I looked like him.”

“She never had the curiosity or courage to come spy on me.”

“I'm not spying! I was just...”

“Hush.” The word seemed a command and Agnes obeyed. Ember then continued in a softer tone. “I’ve been pleased by your investigations. I wondered if we might never come this close or speak. It would’ve been a shame to miss this.”

“You could have said something first.”

“Indeed, yet I feared to frighten you away.”

“You.... were afraid? A dragon?”

“There’s more than one kind of fear.”

“Why do you keep coming here? Are you... lonely?”

“No… and yes. It’s not unusual for my kind to spend decades without company. But I have friends, dragons and humans alike. But sometimes I am lonely for him.”

“I'm sorry. I miss him, too.”

“Do you know he could be terribly annoying? Bumbling around. Getting into situations. Waiting for me to help him out of them. Hoping to get my attention without my knowing that was what he was doing. It was so transparent. And endearing. I miss his bumbling.”

“He loved you a lot.”

“He....” She looked quickly away from the child, off into the darkness. “We never spoke of such things. I was sometimes even rude to him.” Her gaze returned to meet the girl's. “I never told him that I liked it when he sought me. He never knew how much he meant to me.”

“Oh, Ember.... he knew!”

TO BE CONTINUED…