Toby Neighbors - Fierce Loyalty

The next day dawned bright and Brianna’s first order of business was to feed her pride. She had lost her clothes when she’d used fire on her body-the clothes, obviously not impervious to flame like she was, had simply burned away. But she had saved the skins of many of the animals her pride brought to her as food. She had worked carefully to make clothes for herself, although she knew that she couldn’t wear them when she flew high above the clouds where the air was so cold it could freeze her breath. So she had fashioned a satchel of sorts and stored the makeshift clothes there. Gyia could carry the satchel, but first her pride needed to hunt, and so did Brianna.

“Go, hunt and eat well,” she told them. “We have a long journey ahead of us.”

The dragons took to the air, all except Ferno, who stayed at the entrance to the cave, watching for any signs of danger. Brianna slipped back down the long shaft that led to the cavern in the heart of the mountain. At first the tunnel was pitch-black, but Brianna let blue flames erupt from her skin as she slowed her decent. Flying for Brianna was a dance of the body and the mind. She could do many things simply by thinking them, but she used her body to help shape the flight path she wanted. She extended her arms and let her fingers glide over the sides of the tunnel as she fell. The shaft was straight and the tunnel walls smooth to the touch. She had let her fire burn hotter than molten rock when she made her way down the shaft. The heat she produced was so intense it had melted the stone beneath her feet. She had slipped down into the molten rock, diving deeper and deeper until she found the place she needed, far from the eyes of the world, deeper even than the dwarf kingdoms. And along the way she had found veins of gold. She could sense the precious metal as she drew close to it and she slowed her descent even more.

When she reached the gold vein she spread her legs, letting her feet settle onto the smooth tunnel walls and locking her legs in place so that the pressure of her weight, light though it was, held her in place. The gold vein was rich. She had used many such veins in making her dragons, but this gold would be useful to help her get the supplies she needed to walk among the villages of men again. The gold looked like lightning streaking across the night sky.

She put her hands on the tunnel wall and funneled her heat into the stone. It only took a few moments for the gold to begin to melt and seep out of the stone. It ran down the wall of the tunnel in a golden stream. Brianna moved one hand to cup the molten metal. It pooled into her hand and began to cool. It was heavy and hot, although the heat did not bother Brianna. Still, she needed it to solidify so that she could carry it to a village and trade it for clothes and supplies.

She relaxed her legs and began to fall again. This time she held her arms against her body and pointed her toes until she was speeding through the tunnel at the highest speed possible. When she shot out of the tunnel into the cavern she looped around and used her own momentum to shoot back up. She couldn’t explain how she flew, in fact she didn’t understand it herself, and didn’t bother trying. She couldn’t launch herself off the ground, but she had often stood on Selix’s tail and been launched into the air. Once she was off the ground, she could do almost anything, and the freedom of flying was more intoxicating than any drink.

She flew back up into the cave and landed gracefully on her feet. Then she put the gold on the cold, stone floor. It was soft, like bread dough, and she mashed it flat with her hands and then tore small pieces off, rounding them with her fingers into little golden nuggets. There was enough gold that she had a baker’s dozen of small, pebble sized nuggets.

Then she got an image in her mind of the other dragons returning and she gathered her satchel, stashing the gold inside.

“I’m ready,” she said, thinking of flying with the pride.

Ferno roared, then leapt off the lip of the cave, wings flapping hard as it soared up into the air. Brianna ran and jumped out of the cave, diving first downward and then looping back up high into the air. She glanced down at the cave and bid it a wistful goodbye. Then she settled onto Selix’s back as the pride turned south and began to fly away.

Life aboard the Northern Star took Mansel some getting used to. There were strange duty rotations, constant work, poor food, and claustrophobic conditions. Mansel’s back ached from constantly stooping over to make his way through the between-decks area, which was where the crew ate, slept, and, in Mansel’s case, did most of his work.

Mansel had made barrels with Quinn in the past, but with the space limitations and the need to be extra careful with fire on board the ship, he struggled with the task. Ern kept Mansel busy and life merged into a routine of eating, sleeping, and working. Mansel wasn’t sure that Zollin had helped him, but he had only started getting seasick when he suddenly felt much better. Still, sleeping in a hammock in the crowded between-decks was difficult and certainly didn’t help his back. Fatigue was also a big problem for Mansel. He felt like there were bells ringing to wake him up almost as soon as he closed his eyes. The only bright spot in the misery of his days was his daily ration of rum. The liquor was strong and helped him relax, although it wasn’t enough to get him drunk.

Mansel occasionally saw Zollin on the command deck, but the big warrior was only allowed on the main deck when something needed to be repaired. They were almost a week into the journey when Ern sent him up to the passenger deck.

“There’s some sort of problem in one of the passenger cabins?” Ern said. “How the hell they smash up wooden furniture is a mystery to me. I don’t have the patience to deal with sprogs.”

The insult wasn’t lost on Mansel. He knew a “sprog” was an untrained person at sea, which was exactly what he was. Still, Mansel had an idea who needed a little carpentry work and didn’t complain.

“Aye,” he said sarcastically.

Ern just waved Mansel away. The big carpenter’s helper picked up his bag of tools and arranged the strap over his shoulder. He left Ern in the workshop and headed for the stairway that would take him up to the main deck. The passenger deck did not run the entire length of the ship and could only be accessed from the main deck. Mansel guessed that either the passengers didn’t want to rub shoulders with the crew or the officers didn’t want the crew to get any ideas about visiting the passengers in secret. Either way, he would have to get permission from the officer of the watch to go onto the passenger deck.

“And just where do you think you’re going, toad?”

Mansel sighed. Toad was the nickname some of the crew had given him. He had been content to keep to himself, but in the close quarters of the “’tween” decks, that had been impossible. He had been polite to the other sailors, but a new recruit was always a target and Mansel’s size made him an easy one. He was constantly bumping his head or accidentally stumbling into someone.

“He’s going up on deck,” said one of a group of sailors who had taken it upon themselves to torment Mansel.

“I’ve work to do,” he said simply, but they stepped in front of him, blocking his path to the stairs that led up to the main deck.

“Toads aren’t allowed on the main deck, Sprog, or didn’t you know that?”

“I’m working,” Mansel said again. “Ern sent me.”

“Sure he did,” said the vocal sailor in the group. He had a scar across one check, and the other sailors called him Slice. “I see you’ve got your tools there. Are you enjoying your pleasure cruise while the rest of us do all the work?”