I stood in the middle of frantic activity, wondering what I
should be doing to help. All around me short, dark-skinned people wearing
little but bright jewelry worked, carving fanciful creatures in large stones in
one area, covering walls with what looked like plaster in another. They painted
every finished surface with brilliant colors to rival the brilliant greens of
lush foliage and vivid splashes of tropical flowers.
Children ran everywhere, playing and helping in equal
measures. They carried water to the workers who paused gratefully to ease their
thirst in the oppressive heat. A tall man had his back to me as he knelt beside
a sort of miniature model of the long roofless building. He was much taller, and his skin and hair were lighter
than the other people. He seemed familiar. He pointed to various parts of the
model, and up to the building being constructed around us.
The men with him nodded and discussed the fine points of the
structure. They spoke a language I shouldn’t have understood. The sounds of it
were so strange, I didn’t even know what language it was.
I leaned over the big man’s shoulder to look at the model.
It looked a little like a rectangular sports stadium, like a football field, but narrower, and with the decorated stone walls on either side of the field. The chaos around
me made more sense. Now, I recognized the stone benches going up on the
hillside above me. The long wall beside me didn’t look like it was built for
any sport I knew of. A stone hoop, mounted vertically, stuck out of the slanted
wall like an elephant’s big ear, clearly a goal of some sort. It was so high
that I couldn’t imagine a human jumping high enough to even touch it from the
ground.
The wall was as long as a neighborhood block. Workmen stood
on temporary wooden scaffolding to reach all parts of that wall to carve
elaborate scenes into it. This wouldn’t just be a functional space when it was
completed, it would be a beautiful one.
I stood fascinated by the wonder around me. I didn’t notice that
the tall, white man had finished his conversation and stood beside me until he
spoke. “It is magnificent, is it not?”
I recognized him as the
man I’d seen in my dreams before. Last time I saw him, he’d been wearing a
cloak of feathers. He was a dragon, a purple dragon like me, except he had red
and gold markings. “It’s amazing. What is it all for?”
The man smiled warmly. His dark blue eyes twinkled. “To play
ball in, of course.” Something about him reminded me of Fafnir, but I couldn’t
put my finger on it. Maybe it was the thick beard, or the wide smile.
“It seems like such a huge effort, just to build a place to
play.”
He winked. “There is no more important endeavor in life than
to play. Without joy, life has little point.”
I chuckled. I liked his attitude. “Who are you?”
“In my youth in my homeland, I was called Agmund Drage. But
here, they simply call me the feathered serpent.”
“Quetzalcoatl,” I said to myself. I understood the meaning
of what he said, but the sounds in the strange language were also familiar. “My
mother’s grandmother was one of the daughters of Quetzalcoatl.”
“Ah, well, that explains why you have been drawn to me
across time, young one. We are family.” He hugged me hard enough to threaten my
ribs. “Welcome, great great granddaughter! What is your name?”
The male dragon scent was strong on him, and he wasn’t
wearing much. Strangely, I found the scent less disturbing to my mental
processes than when I smelled it on Jack, Vlad or White Knight. “Damson Dragon.”
I told him my real name without hesitation. It was pretty clear I was a long
way from Texas in the 21st century. All I needed was a little dog
and a picnic basket. This might have been a dream, but the humidity and heat,
the scent of sweaty humans, rock dust, and strange plants seemed as solid as
that hug. “How did I get here?” I didn’t remember getting my house swept up in
a tornado or anything.
The big man shrugged. “I have no idea. None of my descendants
have visited me from the future before. But you have a faint glow around you,
and no one sees you but me, so I knew you were misplaced from your own time.”
I paid more attention to the people bustling around me. No
one looked back at me. They walked past me as if nothing existed in the space I
took up. “Whoah, that’s weird. I’m a ghost.”
The Aztec god chuckled, and started walking, inspecting the
work in progress. “Not a lost spirit of one dead, you are the imagination of
one who has not yet been born.”
“And that’s not weird at all.” No one tried to walk through
me. It was as if they avoided the space I occupied without realizing they were
doing it. “You hugged me, though.” I bent down and picked up one of the small
chunks of stone fallen from the busy stone carvers. It felt solid in my hand. I
could feel the weight and the grainy texture. “I feel real.” I tossed the stone
into a pile of other stone chips. It caused a few other rocks to tumble down.
A young woman working nearby looked up at the sound,
startled, looked around, shrugged, and went back to chipping away at an
unfinished carving.
“You are quite real,” Quetzalcoatl assured me. “You have
probably been drawn here for a reason. Some great need has pulled you to this
place. It is an extraordinary gift. I have heard of only one other dragon who
could send his mind across time.”
“Who is that?”
“A gifted wizard of the Green clan. His abilities are
approaching legend as he matures into an elder. I have heard that he can also
change his body into birds and beasts.”
“Are you talking about Merlin?”
He laughed. “I am. Do you know of the Green wizard in your
time?”
“He was my grandfather.”
“Really?” He cocked his head to one side. “My descendants
mixed with the blood of the Green wizard. Imagine that.” He fell silent for a
moment, thinking. “I have the blood of Gold, Black, Red, and Blue. My brother
and I were the only dragons to mix so many clans in my time. If you have my
blood, plus that of Green, you are a mix of nearly half the dragon clans of the
world.” He looked at me, almost sympathetically for a moment, then shook his
head. “Well, then. Merlin should have taught you to expect such drifting in
time. Does he not know that you inherited his gift?”
“Merlin died centuries before I was born. My dad didn’t have
any time related abilities. Even if he had them, he died when I was little. My
mother raised me most of my life, and she’s more human than dragon.”
Quetzalcoatl put a huge, gentle hand on my shoulder. “I am
sorry, child. It must be difficult dealing with such a gift without guidance. I
fear if that is what has drawn you to me, I will be no help.”
“I have no idea what drew me to you, um, sir.” I wasn’t
really sure what to call him.
“Call me Agmund, young Damson. No one remembers my old name in
this land but my brother.” His face that had seemed so cheerful the rest of the
time, darkened a little when he mentioned his brother again. He smiled after
only a moment. “It will be good to hear my birth name again.”
“How did you get here, Agmund?”
“I sailed on a very long journey around the edges of the
world. Leif, son of Eric the Red, travelled alongside us, but our ships were
separated in a great storm. I do not know his fate.”
“Leif Ericson did fine. He explored North America, according
to most historians, and eventually settled in Greenland.”
“That is good to know! I spent many a day with Leif, fought
and sailed beside him. He was a good friend, and a strong steady man for the
most part, unlike his half-brother Fafnir. Eric was mad to make Fafnir his
heir. That boy is rash and foolish, but he has pure lineage.” Agmund shook his
head. “I fear he will lead his people to a bad end. I was banished for trying to make Eric see reason.”
I coughed uncomfortably. “Fafnir’s been a good mentor to me.
He’s the eldest and wisest of us now.”
Agmund’s eyebrows shot up, then he laughed, then he laughed
some more. He laughed until tears streamed down his cheeks. He leaned against
the carved wall to support himself. People looked at him funny, but didn’t
question why their god was laughing so hard at nothing. “Fafnir. Old and wise.”
He chuckled again. “The world has changed greatly in your time, young dragon.”
I thought about how many dragons were dead in my time. Fafnir
may not be that old by dragon standards, or all that wise, but there simply
weren’t many of us left. He was what we had.
Agmund’s laughter died as he watched my face. “Don’t tell
me, child. I do not want to know what tragedy lies ahead. I prefer to face
darkness as it comes, and take joy while I can.”
I nodded. His world was filled with sunshine and smiling, industrious
people building a beautiful place to play. I didn’t feel the need to spoil it
for him.
“And speaking of joy …” He smiled until his blue eyes were
nearly lost in crinkles.
A lovely woman of the native people, with black hair so
thick it was practically clothing, approached and smiled back at Agmund with
the same happiness. “This, young Damson, is why I have made no attempt to sail
back to my old friend, Lief. This is my wife, Cuicatl. Her name means song. She and our
daughters are the song of my life.”
The couple embraced, the tall white man all but engulfing
the petite dark woman.
“Who is it that you speak to, husband? I see only an odd
glow in the shape of a woman.”
Her scent and her face both seemed incredibly familiar. “Ma?”
She looked just like I remembered my mother when I was little. Ma was a little
taller, and didn’t run around wearing hardly anything but her hair and some
jewelry, but that woman looked enough like her to be her sister.
She looked in the general direction of my chest. “Does the
shadow think I am her mother?”
“You look so much like her.” The tickling scent that I had
always associated with my mother filled my nose. I inhaled deeply to get more
of it. It reminded me of home and safety. This woman was the only female dragon
I’d ever been around other than my mother. “And you smell like her.”
Agmund said, “Damson is the great grandchild of one of our
daughters. She is also related to the wizard whose mind drifts across time. She
has drifted here from far in the future.”
“Why have you come here, daughter of my daughter?”
“I don’t know. But this isn’t the first time. Something
keeps pulling me back.”
She reached up, trying to touch my face, but missing by a
few inches. I guided her hand to my cheek.
Cuicatl stroked my cheek with her thumb. She could touch me,
even if she couldn’t see me clearly. “Think, child. Deep inside you, there is a
desire that has sent your soul seeking. Of all things, what do you want most?
If you could have anything, what would you ask for?”
I blinked and noticed a tear as it dropped. The answer
stunned me even as I spoke it. “I want to be human.”
My ancestors, both of them dragons, gasped.
“Why?” my great great grandfather asked me. “Why would you
want to give up your heritage, to give up the sky?”
“I love a human man.” Jack wouldn’t even speak to me because
he thought my dragon nature had led me to betray him. I couldn’t give myself to
him completely because of our incompatible anatomy. He couldn’t believe that I,
a dragon, truly loved him, that I wanted to stay with a mere human forever. We
couldn’t live a normal life together in any case, work together, be just us. My
abilities made me feel obligated to fight injustice, which kept us constantly
apart. I didn’t feel like I had any choice.
And, to be honest, it was more than just Jack. I couldn’t
have any man. I also didn’t belong in any crowd. That moment when Liberty
looked at me with shock and a little horror. I’d seen that look on other faces.
I’d spent my whole life hiding from that look, running from that look. I didn’t
just sympathize with White Knight, cutting away his scales to try to be more
human, I understood that desire. On a level deep enough to drive me far across
time, I shared it.
I covered my scales up every day, and pretended it didn’t
bother me.
I lived in Austin, Texas, for goodness sake, where it was sunny
295 days a year, and over 100 degrees for half the summer, and I’d never been
able to go swimming at a pool or a lake where anyone might see me. I didn’t
even own a bathing suit.
“I just want to be normal.” Another tear escaped. It got my
great great grandmother’s hand wet.
“Oh, daughter of my daughter. You are very young, I think.”
She pulled my head down where she could kiss my forehead. “What you ask for is
easily granted, but one day, your heart will yearn as much for scales and wings
as today it yearns for soft skin.”
I looked into her large brown eyes and felt like I was
falling down into someplace warm, dark and safe.
Her voice, the gentle feel of her hands on my cheeks, and the
spicy sweet scent of her faded.
I woke to the sound of my alarm.
I reached out with my left hand, very carefully, to turn it
off, and froze, staring in disbelief at my own hand. There were no claws, there
were no scales. My left hand looked just like my right, soft pale brown skin.
Human skin.
I whipped the covers back and looked at my slender, normal
feet, with only five toes each. I touched my arms and legs and chest. No
scales. None. Anywhere. A sense of wonder filled me until I felt the back of my
arms.
My wings were gone, too. That gave me a jolt. What had I
done? What had I given up?
I was human.
D Dragon