The Sword and The Mountain (Kathardra book 1)

The feelings of compression, the light and warmth being sucked away weren’t so jarring now that Lessa was expecting it. She landed on her front lawn and ducked behind a bush. The sun here was also dipping into the horizon. She slunk to a tree, and then to the corner of the house.

“What are you doing?” Zar hissed in her ear, making Lessa nearly jump out of her skin. He grabbed her wrist. “You said you would stay!”

“I just have to make sure he’s safe.” She whispered back to him, ripping her wrist from his grip.

He hovered just next to her as she squatted under the living room window and listened for any voices wafting from inside.

Her mom was crying. The wails were the clearest sound that escaped the glass.

“Brody, where is she?” William demanded of his son.

“I don’t know!” Brody whimpered.

Air slowly filled Lessa’s lungs, and equally slow, she blew it out of her nose. In all of her plotting, she hadn’t realized that the perfect plan was this. She could escape Storm by escaping now that the dragon wasn’t reading her mind.

“We have to go,” Zar said urgently.

This was it. All she had to do was run. Yell. Scream. Hit the window. Anything would get her out of this.

Her eyes met Zar’s. She had never seen such dark blue eyes before. They were begging, pleading silently with her.

At that moment, Lessa made a choice.

She gave him a mute nod.

He nodded back and gently took her hand. He carefully pulled her toward the portal.

In a daze Lessa let him pull her along. Until he pulled her right back through the door to the other world.

A deep exhalation released from Zar’s lungs as he dropped her hand.

Lessa felt hollow. She hugged herself tightly.

Storm crept over to her, and Lessa’s hand moved out to meet Storm’s snout reflexively. Her hand slid up the dragon’s jaw and she leaned all the way into her until she was hugging her head.

You can hear me?

Yes.

A Chill wove itself up Lessa’s spine. Comfort flooded out the cold and Storm hummed as she leaned into Lessa’s embrace.

What have I gotten myself into? Lessa asked the dragon. Storm’s only response was to continue humming pleasantly.

“May I?” Zar asked from behind her.

Lessa turned to see him gesturing to her saddle. The sword that was attached to it.

The teen squatted and gently gripped the handle of the sword. He smoothly pulled it from the saddle and stared at the blade adoringly.

“All the stories, legend made real in my hands.” He mumbled to himself. The blade was darker than night, no glow from the fire alighted on its steel. It seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it.

Lessa watched him wearily as she sat herself next to the fire.

He caught her watching him, and he deftly flipped the sword and offered it to her hilt first. She shook her head, “I don’t want it.”

“Want it or not. It is yours.” Zar spoke with kind insistence.

With a frown, Lessa grasped the hilt and Zar released the blade.

For just a moment Lessa’s hand was stuck where it was, holding the sword out in the air. It felt right in her hand. Her fingers somehow knew this grip, her arm knew the weight. She wanted to swing it, feel the blade cut through the air, maybe cut more than the breeze.

Nearly of their own accord, Lessa’s fingers promptly splayed out and let the sword drop to the ground.

She glanced at Zar, he was watching her too closely. His eyes met hers and he seemed to know what she had felt. She looked away, arms coming to wrap around her knees as she stared into the fire.

He moved away, expertly he untied the sheath from the saddle, then stood and stared down at the discarded tack. “Do you want this?” He asked with a gesture.

Lessa glanced at Storm. “It wouldn’t fit anymore. And it’s broken anyway, I think the frame snapped when I fell.”

He nodded and then knelt on the ground, both hands planted on the ground just by the saddle. Suddenly dirt started to boil around the saddle, and it sank into what had been solid ground moments before.

Lessa leaped to her feet and took several paces back. “What are you doing?” She gasped at him.

“Burying it.” His voice was calm and obviously unconcerned.

“How?” Lessa demanded almost shrilly.

Zar finally noticed her alarm and looked over his shoulder at her.

“Magic.” He responded placidly.

“You can do magic?” She squealed.

His eyes were earnest as he nodded, he almost looked confused. “There’s no magic in your world, is there?” At that moment the saddle disappeared fully under the ground. The only indication it had been there at all was a patch of ground that was clear of fallen leaves.

He brushed the dirt from his hands and stared at Lessa, much calmer than she was staring at him.

“Magic?” She breathed at him.

He nodded calmly. “This world is full of magic.”

Lessa shook her head and sank back down to sit beside the fire.

“I need to get my horse,” Zar said, taking a step away. He froze. “Don’t go anywhere.” He cautioned.

Lessa only sighed at him and stared back at the fire. This place is strange. She thought to Storm. Amusement came back from the dragon. Lessa looked at her through the corner of her eyes. “I suppose you’re right.” She said with reluctant levity. “Of all the things that happened today that was not the strangest. And I’m talking to a dragon.”

Lessa shivered and brought her arms around herself, leaning into the fire.

“Here,” Zar said holding something out to her. She eyed him wearily but took what he handed. She realized it was the long cloak-like coat he had been wearing. “What about you?” She hesitated only a moment before she wrapped it around herself, unable to resist the warmth it offered.

“I’ll be alright.” He shrugged. “I’ve got more layers I can put on… And it’s really my fault you came here with nothing.”

Lessa bit her lip, unwilling to correct him. She had chosen to follow him back here.

“I do only have one bedroll.” He continued in a hurry, “You can take that too. I can keep myself warm with magic.”

“No worries.” Lessa declined his offer in just as much of a rush. “I can sleep with Storm. I will be plenty warm with her.”

Zar nodded his assent with a glance at the dragon.

Before long, perhaps because she didn’t want to be awkwardly sitting in silence, Lessa rose and announced her intention to try to sleep.

Storm shifted her bulk and Lessa tucked herself against Storm’s belly. The scales of her legs were massive, the size of Lessa’s hand, and hard as stone, But the coat Zar gave her provided an excellent buffer. The scales of her belly were smaller, and smoother, giving a soft backstop for Lessa to lean against. Lessa quite nearly jumped as a wing pressed over her and created a living tent cocooning her entirely.

Almost at once, Lessa warmed considerably, Storm’s heat driving all chill from Lessa’s shelter.

I should have come in here sooner. Lessa mused to the dragon. Storm only hummed in response.

There, in the comfort of Storm’s warmth, and the privacy of her wings, tears started slowly rolling down Lessa’s cheeks. Somehow she knew she wouldn’t be seeing her family again for a long time.

After she woke, from a less-than-restful sleep Lessa stared at the green membrane above her face. It was scattered with veins that looked like tiny emerald rivers branching through the leathery appendage.

With a single finger, Lessa traced the path of blood.

That tickles! Storm complained, jerking her wing from Lessa’s touch.

“Sorry.” She mumbled aloud looking around at the forest Storm’s raised wing revealed.

Zar was squatting next to the small fire that he had already reignited, a pot before him sitting in the coals.

“Hungry?” He asked when his eyes met her own.

She nodded groggily, sitting up and wiping the sleep, and dried tears from her eyes.

“Here,” Zar said as he lifted the pot from the coals and set it on the ground before her. “It’s not much, but it’s edible.”

A hungry stomach overcame Lessa’s suspicion quickly. The pot held a porridge flecked with bits of dried fruit.

She slowly took her first steaming bite. He was right, it wasn’t much. Most of the flavor came from the dried apple and pears mixed in. Lessa ate in silence, Zar at once started kicking dirt into the fire and scattering the logs with his foot.

“We need to get going as soon as possible.”

With that, Lessa realized his bedroll was already stowed on the horse; it seemed his only possession not packed was the small pot in front of her.

“Where are we going?” She asked after the last bite of porridge had been swallowed.

“My home. A town called Haven, a couple days’ ride from here.” He seemed to consider it. “Maybe six days if we’re fast.” He took the pot from her and waved his hand over the inside like he was wiping it with an invisible rag. The last bit of food stuck to the bottom lept away and was casually cast to the ground.

Lessa stared wide-eyed as he examined his pot, he seemed to deem it acceptable and stowed it in the saddle bag on his horse.

He turned to her. “Do you need help mounting?”

“No,” Lessa said offended. She hadn’t needed help mounting in years. And then she realized why he asked.

Storm.

The dragon.

She was still lying though and Lessa climbed Storm’s leg and reached toward her back. She was able to use the wing joint and started to heave herself up.

Gritting her teeth, Lessa refused to admit she might need a little help when Storm’s head curled around and Lessa was able to put a foot on her nose and flop onto her back.

“Good?” Zar asked, looking up at her.

“Yeah.” She said slightly breathless. And then Storm stood up. And up. And up.

Her hands flopped uselessly in search of something to hold onto. She had been a rather tall horse, but this was ridiculous. She had to be three times as tall now.

Lessa leaned slightly, looking all the way down to the ground. If she fell it would hurt. She tensed her legs, strong with years of horseback riding, keeping her steady in her spot.

Zar mounted his horse and then nodded once at Lessa. She nodded back and he set off.

Storm followed smoothly. Lessa felt strange with no reigns, no stirrups to cue her mount. All she had to do was just sit. And look around.

This land was as brilliantly colored as a master artist’s canvas.. The waving leaves on the trees high above them were deep emerald green, not dissimilar from Storm’s scales. Their trunks were covered in soft strips of rusty red-brown bark. There were birds singing in the distance, bugs chittering. Fluffy moss clung to rocks, trunks, and branches. Even the soil under Storm’s claws smelled fresh and clean.

Everything around looked, sounded, and smelled alive.

“What was this place called?” She asked Zar, who rode ahead of them several horse lengths.

“Kathardra.” He called back to her over his shoulder. “Well, we will pass through Kathardra’s southern border soon.”

“Kathardra,” Lessa mumbled to herself.

“What is that?” She asked, pointing to a plant at the base of some trees. Its leaves almost looked fern-like, with orange and pink dinner plate-sized blossoms that were deep and full of liquid, maybe water.

Zar caught where she was looking and answered. “A honey water flower. They are great if you need a water source. But they can be mildly addicting.”

“How old are you?” Lessa blurted. Zar actually looked up at her this time, he waited a beat before answering. “Seventeen.”

“I’m not who you think I am.” Lessa rushed on to cover her sudden interest in him. “I’m not a hero. I won’t be able to help you with what you are looking for. I’m not even convinced that I’m not hallucinating all of this. ”

He smiled. “We’ll see, Lessa.”