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lady-merian · 8 months

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The Tiffany Problem

Here it is, all in one convenient post :D a huge thank you to @valiantarcher for beta reading and catching so many errors and offering advice on some rough spots. edit: whoops forgot to tag @inklings-challenge in my excitement

I don’t know if I’ve ever seen anything quite like it; a storm blowing a tree over and leaving a girl in it’s wake. She had a dazed look about her, and was dressed in the oddest clothes . A short green tunic and long blue trousers. Short boots with dingy white lacing and a flower crown in her shoulder-length nut-brown hair.

It was the flower crown that decided it for me. If not for that, I might’ve thought she was one of old Halsey’s stablehands, following behind me. Oh yes. Come one and all; a knight has been chosen to slay the dragon. Gawk at him while you can. Ha. The king had sent me to my doom, as though he actually believed I might succeed. Possibly he did. King Arlan was something of an optimist. Whatever the reason, the situation with the dragon was getting desperate, and murmurings against the king’s inaction were increasing. A team of knights would’ve been better suited to this task, (if even that would help) but for whatever reason I alone was chosen.

So here we were, my horse and I, not far from Warian Castle. It would’ve been possible for some curious child to have followed me, but I doubted that was the case here.

I hadn’t intended to be out in the rain at all, but it’d come on so suddenly and there was no shelter to be seen. Woodlands are not the safest place to be caught in a storm, but then again they’re not the worst either. Thankfully that was the only tree that fell, and the rain stopped soon after that.

If you believed the old tales, which I didn’t, her appearance was some sort of omen. It was said that a wood-nymph had appeared to king Talvar right before he took the throne, and gave him the sword that’d vanquished his enemies. Rubbish. All of it.

Well, omen or not, there was something odd about this; my horse and I were soaked through, but she was barely damp. If there’d been shelter nearby, I wish I’d have known about it.

The dazed look hadn’t left her, but she blinked up at me. “You don’t look like any of the knights I’ve seen. Who are you?”

Well it was no wood-nymph after all. Just a girl, still of an age to be making flower crowns. The accent alone would’ve been enough to mark her as a foreigner if I hadn’t already guessed that I, myself, am not well-traveled. Other than a brief sojourn into the neighboring kingdom of Arion, back when old king Gerard was on the throne, I’ve never even left Telurin. So I couldn’t’ve said where she might be from, only that it wasn’t anywhere I knew of.

If she didn’t recognize the device on my shield, the famous leaping stag of House Rioghan, any answer I could give her would be inadequate. Instead I asked some of my own. “Are you lost, lass? Where are your parents?”

Apparently, my voice did the same thing for her as hers did for me. She blinked up at me again, (must have hit her head on one of the tree’s branches as it fell,) and her eyes widened.

“Whoa, you’re one of the professionals!”

Were we speaking two different languages after all?

She dropped into a near perfect courtesy—near perfect because she was not attired properly, and the rough blue trousers were a poor substitute for a flowing skirt.

“I beg your pardon, Sir Knight,” she said, “but no. I’m not lost, my parents are back watching the juggling act and said I could look for the food vendors.”

“Juggling act?” I looked around, but there was only woodland. Was there a stronghold nearby that I didn’t know about? One with a minor lord who was being entertained by a juggling troupe?

“Yes, back ther—“ she half-turned and gestured behind her, but stopped with a gasp at something I couldn’t see. Her hand flew to her mouth.

Wood nymph. Omen. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I brushed the thoughts aside.

“It’s gone! It’s all—“

She turned back to me, and said in a small voice, “I think…I must be lost after all.”

c>={====>

Her name, she said, was Tiffany. And whatever she said about not being hurt, she must have hit her head when that tree fell.

She said all she felt when she stepped through that stone archway (whatever archway she was talking about) was a strong cold wind and then the fallen tree was in front of her. I’d felt the chill in the wind, but it’s autumn. Of course it’s going to be cold. Yet the sleeves of her tunic were cut short, so her arms were indecently bare from elbow to wrist. I’d have some choice words for her parents about that. She shivered in the telling of her tale.

My cloak was much too damp to be of any use in warming her, but the sun was coming out now.

I dismounted and sat in the brightest patch of sun to dry off while she went to inspect the tree. She ended up circling it three times, (Omen. Wood nymph. I shook the thoughts away yet again) before returning to tell me that she didn’t know where she was and had no idea how to get home.

As if my impossible task wasn’t impossible enough, I now had a charge who probably couldn’t even mount a horse, let alone slay a dragon. I couldn’t leave her stranded here, and I couldn’t take her with me.

If I did believe in the old tales, I’d start thinking I was cursed.

“Where do you live?” I asked cautiously. “Carranburn? Or maybe Ellsbridge, or one of the other surrounding villages?”

Please let it be somewhere close by.

I didn’t know if this counted as a prayer. I didn’t know if I was desperate enough for that yet. What was the difference between the God of All, whom the Priests said was everywhere (though invisible,) and the old tales, which I’d long ago realized were myths?

“Never heard of them,” said Tiffany, twisting the stem of a fallen leaf between her fingers. “I’m from New Haven. We came down to Fishers for the Faire.”

I hadn’t heard of any places by those names either. “There isn’t a faire around here,” I said.

“I believe you. But that’s why I’m here.”

“Please don’t speak in riddles.”

c>={====>

She still spoke in riddles, no matter what I told her. Only it wasn’t cryptic conundrums like in the legends, it was chatter that made no sense, with words like “Fone” and “Why Fie”. A small device she carried was not behaving quite as it should, apparently. Whatever her small black rectangle was supposed to do, it was not doing it to her satisfaction. She gave up and placed it back somewhere in the folds of her clothes from whence she had pulled it.

“I figured it wouldn’t work,” she said, “but I had to try.”

“Did you now?”

“Yeah, my mom—er.” She glanced at my face with an odd expression. “I mean my mother is going to worry about me. But then maybe not. Maybe I’ll get back and no time will have passed. Like in the stories.”

“Stories.” It wasn’t a question, so I wasn’t disappointed when she responded with a question of her own.

“So where are we?”

Besides the middle of a forest? Where ought I to begin?

“We are near the townlands of Gwydd.”

A blank look. I sighed.

“In the kingdom of Telurin. Ruled by King Arlan.”

Still no response.

“Those mean nothing to you?”

“No, sir.”

Well in that case she wasn’t likely to have been sent by anyone to prophesy my success or failure, yet I was no closer to understanding what was going on.

She had no more heard of the kingdom of Telurin or king Arlan than I had heard of a place called Fishers or New Haven. Those names seemed to me to indicate a seaside home for the girl, yet she claimed they were inland and she had never even seen the sea.

There was nowhere for her to go but with me—for a time. There might be someone in the next town that could take charge of her, though what I could afford to bargain for her keep I had no idea. Mayhap the Kirik would help a lost girl… I kept my worries to myself, except I did tell her the part about looking for the Kirik at the nearest town. Tiffany agreed to go with me, but at the suggestion of the Kirik she looked puzzled. “Who’s Kirk?”

“Not ‘who,’ lass. ‘What.’ Have you never been?”

She didn’t seem like a heathen, but you never know. I helped her mount, which was necessary even though she actually had ridden before, for Riastrad was no child-sized pony. It was only after I mounted behind and we set off that she asked any more questions.

“So. What is the Kirk?”

“Kirik,” I corrected absently, but other than that I found myself ill-equipped to give a helpful answer. “You ought to ask one of the Elders when we get there.”

“Elders? Is it like a church?”

I rolled the word around in my mind. It wasn’t too dissimilar. It may have been that her accent was the cause of confusion— or rather, mine was.

She interrupted my thoughts. “Do they teach about God there?”

“Yes,” I said slowly. “The God of All. Maker of the world and everything in it.”

She relaxed. “Well, that’s all right then.”

There was something comforting about the fact that He was familiar to her, which was odd considering the fact that I had my own questions about the God of All.

“Where were you going when you found me?” She asked.

“Does it matter? You probably wouldn’t recognize the place.”

“Oh kay why were you traveling?”

By her tone I gathered that “Oh kay” meant “all right” or something similar. Another oddity in her speech, which I dismissed without comment. The land from whence she came seemed backwards enough to me already without me learning any more about it.

“So many questions. And it still doesn’t really matter, because you’re not coming along. It’s too dangerous.”

She sat in silence for a time, which at first I thought was a miracle in itself; then I began to worry I’d been too harsh and thought I ought to explain.

“It’s nothing anyone can help with. I have to kill a dragon, and it’s not—“

“A dragon?” She sat straighter in the saddle. “Those are real?”

I let out a breath. “Of course they’re real, and for some reason I was chosen to stop this one from terrorizing the countryside. So you see my problem.”

“That’s awes—-I mean that’s going to be hard.”

“Hard? It’s impossible. Don’t they have dragons where you come from, lass?”

“Where I come from they’re a myth.”

The idea of something so terribly real being thought of as a mere myth gave me a strange feeling, like someone doubting the sun or the wind if they lived too much indoors.

She shivered a little, whether from the cold (my cloak was still too damp to be of much use in keeping her warm) or from sudden fear I couldn’t tell.

“Next you’ll be telling me it’s always warm where you come from, and that’s why you’re dressed like this without even a cloak to warm you” I said.

Her shoulders shook with sudden laughter. “It’s not always warm, but it was summertime when I woke up this morning. ”

Utter nonsense. I urged Riastrad into a canter as soon as the way through the wood was clear enough, more than eager to hand off my charge to someone else.

The journey to Carranburn didn’t take long, and finding the Kirik was easier still. I spotted it’s tower before we entered the town proper.

We were met at the door by an elder of middling age, with silvering hair. He took one look at us, beamed, and said “We’ve been expecting you.”

c>={====>

A prophecy. About us. What utter nonsense. Over the late supper of bread and wine that was provided for us, Elder Donn, the one who welcomed us, told us of a dream he had a few years ago about a great red dragon destroying everything in it’s wake. At first banishing the idea as nothing more than too rich of a supper before bed, he nevertheless could not forget it and so told Father Beithe, the priest. Six months ago, when the rumors of a dragon in the southern foothills of the Dubhach Mountains first came, and he remembered that dream, he had another. This one involved a knight bearing the device of a white stag, leaping as though it would come off of his shield and come to life.

“And we knew that must be you. There are no others left that bear that device. We knew the King would choose you before he did.”

He went on to explain how shortly after that, he and the priest both had a dream on the same night.

A girl with flowers in her hair, carrying a mysterious white light to match my white stag, and me, carrying a shining lance instead of my sword.

“It must be the Duraidd lance!” Elder Donn exclaimed. His face shone in the soft lamplight.

“Now that is ridiculous. I don’t have any lance with me, let alone that one, and I would not bring a child along. I’ll not risk her safety on the basis of a dream.”

Elder Donn cocked his head to the side as though considering, then said, “Three dreams.”

He seemed at least as ignorant of the dangers of dragons as Tiffany. “I wouldn’t bring her if you’d had a hundred!”

Tiffany cleared her throat. “What’s the Duraidd lance?

I started to say it was a legend, but Elder Donn had a different idea.

“It’s the lance used by Sir Rioghan, the knight that handled the last dragon who attacked Telurin.”

The elder nodded to me. ‘His ancestor.”

Tiffany’s eyes widened as she looked at me.

I clenched my jaw. Whether or not the whole story of the defeat of the great Breunachd was true, my great great grandfather had died from his wounds. His lance, if it still existed, would do me little good. Hoping against hope, I still wanted a way out of this alive.

“It’s said to be displayed in the Kirik of Kynvan, where the dragon’s defeat took place.”

The town was conveniently in my path. I wondered whether Elder Donn knew?

“I cannot bring her along,” I tried again. “Even if the lance is there, it would not guarantee success, and I cannot be responsible for her safety and defeat the beast at the same time. My duty to the king must be my first priority.”

“You would abandon her here?”

Abandon her? That wasn’t fair. “You would refuse to shelter her?”

“Certainly not. If it’s shelter she wants, she could find it here.”

Elder Donn looked to Tiffany, who gave a quick shake of her head.

“I would understand your hesitation if we were asking you to take her to the dragon’s lair, but we are not,” Elder Donn continued. “Nor are we asking you to take full responsibility of her. I myself planned to accompany you as far as she does.”

I frowned. Why would she not want shelter?

Then I turned to her, a horrible idea growing in my mind. During the whole tale from Elder Donn she had sat, wide eyed, not interrupting once. At first I thought it a matter of manners, but that she surely shared my skepticism. Now I wondered. “Do not tell me you believe you should come along!”

Tiffany shrugged. “I don’t see that I can get home by staying here.”

Unspoken was the thought that she had been called here for a purpose, but Elder Donn was thinking it I was sure. They shared a glance between them, and I gave up, outnumbered. I threw my hands in the air in surrender. “You can travel with me as far as the kirik of Kynvan. We can see if the lance is even there, since the town is in my path anyway, but I won’t promise anything beyond that.”

Tiffany brightened at this, where I had hoped she would recognize the seriousness of the situation. She seemed to put more stock in these dreams than I.

c>={====>

The girl is younger than they usually are when they come here, these Travellers from other worlds. The last one was a boy, not too much older than she is now--at least the first time he came. He was one of the few who returned, and it's how one of my theories about the Travellers was proven accurate: time flows differently between worlds. He visited once as a young man, and then, scarcely a year after he had returned to his own world having helped rescue the missing lady Elowyn, he returned years older. Others had been reported to have returned without such vast difference in time. Once with no discernible variance at all. Truly there is no predicting it. The one constant in our records is the mysterious wind, where previously there had been none.

Back to the girl. She calls herself Tiffany. An ekename for Theophania, but when I called her Theophania she looked at me with an utterly bemused expression.

Unlike the last one, she does not need to be convinced of the seriousness of the situation. She expresses no surprise about this being a different world than hers. The God of All rules them both. Listening to her, I ponder for the first time if these two are the only worlds after all. There could be so many, and we have no way of knowing if our infrequent visitors all come from the same one. I make a mental note to look through our chronicler's writings for clues. She has sparked some curiosity in me, Tiffany has. Moreover, she knows not only of the God of All, but of his Son, our Lord and Savior, and his death and resurrection. She knows it all, yet the scriptures say he died but once. How then could it be the same in her world as it is here? Ah, further musings to take to Father Beithe. He shares my curiosity of this other world and the awesome workings of the God of All.

I have told them both what I know. Sir Uriah, the last knight of House Rioghan is at least as skeptical as he is courageous. I expected Tiffany to be the one to be convinced, but the only doubt she has is what this mysterious light could be. I haven't the faintest idea. It is true that I do not even know if the light is to be taken literally. She persists in questioning, and all I can tell her is that it was pure white, more like to a star than the glow of a candle or lantern.

In a collection of garments donated for the poor, I found a serviceable dress for Tiffany as well as a cloak. (Not only will her short tunic and trousers not be warm enough in this weather, none of us want to attract any undue attention and her odd clothing would certainly mark her as a Traveller.) It was only an old woolen dress, of a pale, faded green color, but she was delighted, and put it on over her own clothes and twirled as though it was the finest thing she had ever worn. It even brought a smile to Sir Uriah’s face, though he quickly smothered it. I suspect he does not want to show any sort of approval lest it be taken for encouragement of our plans. He has not taken to the idea of bringing Tiffany so close to danger. I myself would be inclined to send her in the opposite direction if not for the dreams and the certainty that she is meant to accompany him as far as the kirik of Kynvan. Further than that I cannot tell.

Ah, I must put away this chronicle and get some rest. The kirik of Kynvan is roughly a day’s journey from here. We leave with the dawn.

c>={====>

The morning was shrouded in a gloomy fog as we left the kirik. Elder Donn rode a mule, with Tiffany perched on a shaggy pony belonging to one of the inhabitants of the village but which was often lent to the kirik at need.

I was glad they weren’t coming all the way to the Dubhach mountains. If we had to ride hard away from an attack of dragon fire I wouldn’t give a fig for either of their chances.

The gloom had no effect on Tiffany, who prodded Elder Donn for information about the other Travellers he had mentioned to her the night before. I had little to do but listen as she mentioned the stories she had read of similar Travellers. And Elder Donn’s interest as she mentioned one in particular that compared history to a great tree with branches that spread out and went different directions but were rooted in the same place.

“These stories... If you likened history to a tree, with creation as the roots and the crucifixion and resurrection of our Lord as the place where the branches begin to spread, and each branch spread into a different world, it could explain how there could be more than one, and yet would mean Christ died but once as the scriptures say. Extraordinary. It might account for some similarities we’ve noted between worlds. Is something like this possible, do you think?”

Tiffany shrugged. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t explain everything. I liked the sound of it though.”

“But It was not a true story, you say?”

“No,” Tiffany said, “but it got me thinking about it. I guess I’m not the only one that hoped the stories of other worlds could be true.”

“You mean to say none of the tales in your world about other worlds have documented facts?”

“They’re all stories.” She shrugged. “In books. I don’t know of anything like your records. But I do know if I went home and told people about what’s happened here they’d think I was playing a game, or went mad, or hit my head and dreamed it all up. Especially if I mentioned a dragon. So I might be cautious about making a record when I go home.”

“Ahh. Unless you shape it as a story or a dream.” Elder Donn rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I believe I see your point.”

Once again, that strange feeling washed over me. Only this time it carried a subtle shift in my perspective. Of course I knew dragons were real, and they were not less real for the fact that she had never met one. I had never met one personally either, but I had evidence that they existed. If her world was as full of doubt as she made it sound, then even such evidence as I had—stories passed down from people who had seen them firsthand, the blackened stones and rubble of Westmore Castle which had never been rebuilt after Breunachd’s attack—would perhaps not suffice. Fires could come from other things than dragon attacks, after all. On the other hand, how was it then that Tiffany was the one who had no trouble believing that the God of All had sent her here for a purpose?

Lost in these thoughts, I paid less attention to their conversation about the nature of time between worlds. They were quite a pair. Maybe the God of All had actually sent her to keep Elder Donn company and offer new information for his scribblings.

As the morning wore away, the fog turned to mist and the mist turned to gold before disappearing entirely.

When we stopped for our noon meal, there was a break in the chatter. Elder Donn brought out some dry traveller’s loaves and hard cheese from the bundles he’d so carefully packed that morning. Tiffany tore her bread in half and stacked the cheese between the two pieces before eating. An unusual custom, which I chose not to inquire about. Elder Donn was another matter, but I paid little heed again as I started to think more seriously about how to convince the others to let me go on alone to the Dubhach mountains, whatever we found in Kynvan.

After our meal we were back to the road.

The wooded country that had opened up around Carranburn, cleared for farmsteads, again gave way to a land where great trees sprang up and the road was darkened by overhanging branches still full of leaves that had not yet fallen. Tiffany’s chatter did not resume for some time, and when it did it was a question directed at me.

“If it was your ancestor who killed the last dragon with the Duraidd lance, why is it displayed somewhere else? Why don’t you have it?”

Of all the questions I should have expected this one.

“My grandfather’s grandfather died soon after the dragon Breunachd did, for the burns he was given by the beast never healed despite the kingdom’s finest healer tending them herself. He was buried there at the Kirik. It was said that his lance somehow survived the flames and was buried in a tomb with him, but that part of the tale is too uncertain.”

“He must’ve been pretty strong,” Tiffany remarked. “To joust with a dragon, I mean.”

There she went again, with words that made no sense. To join it in single combat was of course the very thing I was supposed to do. It puzzled even Elder Donn.

“They say he threw it at Breunachd's open mouth, and it lodged so deep in the beast's throat that it could not be removed until he was dead,” he ventured to say, “yet somehow the shaft was not burned to ash even in Breunachd’s death throes.”

“That was one of the versions I have heard,” I added. “Which is why I say it’s uncertain. It makes no sense.”

“How could he have thrown it?” Tiffany frowned. “A lance is for jousting.”

“For… joining in battle… yes.”

At which point we both accepted that we were not going to understand one another, as an awkward silence followed.

Personally I always thought the story of the lance’s survival was too far fetched, but people love a legend and Sir Rioghan dying so soon after the beast meant the legend needed a bit of help to ease the retelling. Not that the miraculous survival of a piece of wood and metal made it that much better. If it had survived, which was in some doubt.

“What were the other versions you heard?” Elder Donn asked.

“The way my grandfather told it, the lance did lodge in Breunachd’s throat, but its jaws clamped down on the shaft and combined with the flames the wood was consumed. The sharp metal head worked its way deeper into the flesh and the beast died in a great mass of blood and flame.”

I expected—hoped for— a grimace from Tiffany at the description. Let her realize this wasn’t a nice, safe quest. When I glanced her way, however, she looked as calm as before.

“Of course my grandfather wasn’t there,” I continued, “but he says his father was old enough to travel to Kynvan with my great great grandmother to see Sir Rioghan before he died. Now my cousin remembers the tale a little differently: he remembers hearing that the flames traveled the length of the shaft until it glowed too hot to hold but did not burn. Yet the process of working it free from the dragon’s corpse bent the metal into something unusable. Goodness knows how there are so many different versions of the story. If it ever was displayed at the Kirik, I expect we will not find the shining lance you saw in your dream.”

“Is that why you don’t believe in the dreams?” Tiffany asked.

“The why, lass, is more complicated than that. If I saw some sign of the dreams being anything other than—what did you call it, Elder? Too rich a supper before bed?— I might change my mind.”

“I’m here,” Tiffany narrowed her eyes. “Or do you still think I’m from your world and not another?”

Caught, neatly as an animal in a trap. If I said I didn’t believe she came from another world, it was as good as calling her a liar. If I said she did come from another world, I had little basis for believing that and not the rest of the dreams.

It was as if they read my thoughts. Elder Donn chuckled and an impish grin spread across Tiffany’s face.

“There are only three possibilities, you know.”

“Three?”

“Well, yes. I could be lying, or mad, or telling the truth.”

Odd as she sometimes seemed, madness was something I’d stopped considering long ago. “I did think at first you had hit your head,” I admitted, “but there’s no evidence of that. I checked, and you didn’t have a head wound. And since then you have been as sane as I.”

That got a smile out of Elder Donn and a giggle out of her. “Only since then?”

I decided not to tell her about thinking of the wood nymph that supposedly appeared to King Talvar. That might not persuade her of my own sanity, if she knew I had seriously considered it.

“I will grant you that you appeared strangely and I do not know from whence. Does that satisfy you?”

“We’ll have to see about the rest then,” she said.

c>={====>

The first of the refugees came upon us while we were still several leagues from Kynvan. A couple with a young child in her mother’s arms, fleeing with very little more than the clothes on their backs. They did not stop to explain, they scarce acknowledged us at all, even at Elder Donn’s benediction. Shock was written in every line on their faces.

I heard Elder Donn murmur a prayer for them after they passed.

More families, trickled past us, then groups of families, bringing rumors of fires and collapsed buildings and a challenge from a monster. Finally an old woman who seemed to be attached to no one finally took notice of us.

“You should turn the other way, Sir Knight, Elder.” She bobbed her head at each of us in turn. “If not for your sake, then for the girl. This Namhaid is not content to stay in his lair.”

I was going to say that I agreed, Elder Donn and Tiffany should turn back, but Tiffany sat straight up in her saddle.

“He can’t turn back, and I’m not going to. The king chose him to defeat the dragon.”

“What do you mean Namhaid?” Elder Donn broke in.

“That’s what the beast calls himself!” The woman said. “He came, destroyed the Kirik with one blast of fire and a sweep of his great tail, thick as a cedar, and boasted that no one could stand against him. Then he snatched up a maiden and flew back to his lair! But he’ll be back. The sensible ones of us have fled.”

Then the woman was gone, swept along in the tide of people fleeing.

The tide slowed after a time, and all the while I was trying to think of something to say that would convince Elder Donn and Tiffany to flee with them. I could claim to believe the lance would be there, in the rubble of the kirik, I could claim to believe Tiffany had helped enlighten me and given me courage, that the light of Elder Donn’s dream must therefore be symbolic.

No, tempting as it was I wouldn’t lie to her.

May she find her way home. Now this one was a prayer. If you’re there, may she find her way home. And Elder Donn as well. Why should they be caught up in this with me?

“The dragon is not there now,” Tiffany said. “I know you’re still trying to get us to leave you, but I think we should go to the kirik at least.”

It was rather annoying to have her guess so much of my thoughts.

“It was destroyed,” I said. “You heard the woman.”

“I promise if we don’t find anything there I’ll give up, but I can’t go back without us even trying. If we find a way for me to get home before then, I’ll go back without arguing.”

That seemed like an easy way to get her to go back, in a way. Still, I had my doubts. “Even this is a lot of risk.” I looked to Elder Donn. “What do you think? We don’t know when the dragon will return.”

“We don’t know that it will be today,” Elder Donn replied. “As it is, it is getting dark. There will be shelter in town.”

Caught betwixt warring responsibilities. It was getting dark, and upon realizing that, I was ill at ease sending them back along the road so late in the evening even with the fleeing townsfolk. A panic stricken group seemed like little protection from other dangers that might lurk, dragon or no.

I agreed.

It was not yet full dark when we reached the town of Kynvan. An air of melancholy hung over the place. It became apparent that not everyone had left or even planned to leave. Some were obviously stragglers, still loading possessions into carts, but others seemingly had no intent to move on, others still appeared to have been wounded in the dragon’s attack and might have left if they could have.

All around I saw scorched buildings and scorched people, with burns and bandages aplenty. A chill wind was blowing the smoke away westward. Tiffany shivered and pulled her russet cloak tighter around her.

We had to find the Kirik, or what was left of it. Then we had to find somewhere to shelter for the night so I could send Tiffany and Elder Donn back in the morning with a clear conscience.

c>={====>

The main stone building of the kirik had partially collapsed with half of the roof caved in. There was no way I would allow either of them to explore the rubble, and yet if we did not try I could not hope to convince Tiffany to go back with the Elder in the morning. The half that was still standing stood dark and forbidding, with broken glass from the windows scattered along the ground and glinting with the last of the light from the setting sun.

“We should try in the morning,” Elder Donn said. “It’s sure we won’t find it in the dark.”

"Wait!" Tiffany exclaimed. “Light!”

Then, without explaining further, rummaged in the folds of her clothes again and pulled that small black rectangle out. She did something to it, tapping the broad flat center rapidly, muttering about a battery and some nonsense about it having some life left except for service in cells, which she said was dead. The words she used were familiar, yet utterly severed from any meaning that I knew.

“There,” she said proudly, holding it aloft. “Will this help?”

A bright white light streamed from the top and even I felt something stir as I thought of the white light of Elder Donn’s dream--though I also winced away from the brightness that made spots dance in my vision.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t think it would be that bright. It’s not, usually.” Her brow furrowed. "I don't think so, anyway."

“All along you had this?” Elder Donn said, wonder in his voice.

“Well, yes, but I didn’t need it till now,” Tiffany replied. “The candles at the kirik were nicer. Can we look for it now?”

I could hardly tear my eyes away from the light, even as it stung my eyes. Far better than a torch would be.

"May I?"

Tiffany shrugged and handed it over. My understanding of it was no better, but at least it was not as though the light was sorcery that required her touch and hers alone. She even showed me what she did to banish the light and command it back again.

I showed it to Elder Donn, who stood transfixed for a moment before confirming what I suspected.

"This is the light from my dream. I am sure of it."

And I believed him. It perplexed me, this certainty. I was still no closer to allowing Tiffany or the elder to explore the rubble, but I was now actually considering what I might find if I was to search for my great grandfather's lance.

"This?" Tiffany was incredulous. "But this is just..."

She stopped. "Oh, Kay, so this is the light. That doesn't mean I can just go back, even if I did know how. You can't keep my phone, I have to stay till you're done with it at least."

I smiled. Without my even trying, she was speaking of going home. Perfect. Though she had a point, we still did not know how to send her home.

"We will speak of this in the morning," I said. "For now, If you will permit me to borrow your light, I will see what can be seen. The ruins may be unstable, and dream come true or not, I do not see that you should be the one to explore them. T'will be a miracle if anything can be found though."

I did not explain to her that I was the closest I had ever been to believing in miracles.

It was a bare quarter of an hour before I returned, bearing only the strange black rectangle but no lance. In that time dusk had crept silently over the town. Most of the fires were out, and the only people out in the open were those still fighting the flames.

"I saw something that might have been it," I said in answer to my companions' visible disappointment, "but could not reach it, with one hand holding the light. Tis half buried in a crevice formed by a collapsed wall."

Tiffany beamed. "You need someone to reach it."

"Or at least hold the light," I said, casting a wry glance her way. "Are you volunteering then?"

The rest of the building did not appear as though it would collapse further, at any rate. And I had the feeling that time was of the essence. Far better, now that I had seen it was stable, to have us all working together.

When we reached the crevice, Tiffany held the light while I strained to reach the long thin object I could see. It remained out of reach, for I could extend my arm but not more than that and the lance, if that is what it was, was further away than it had first appeared. The crevice was not wide enough for my head and shoulders. Elder Donn had shorter arms than I did, and less chance of reaching it. That left Tiffany. Her slight figure would possibly be able to get further. I might not be able to hold the light for her, but if she could crawl in where I could not she might be able to hold it in one hand and pull it out with the other. Before I could even weigh the risks and decide if the crevice itself was stable enough to allow it, a great shadow spread out around us, blotting out all other shadows cast by the ruined walls. A rush of wind scattered dead leaves and bracken and even some of the rubble. Then there was a blast of heat and smoke wreathed around us, right before a horrible booming laughter echoed through the stony corridors.

"What is this? One tough old warrior, encased in a fragile metal shell, one soft kirikman, and the juiciest morsel of all-- I believe I smell a maidchild. Have you come to placate me with the ancient custom of sacrificing the young one? Juicy she may be, but I will require more than that as tribute if you've come to pay your respects."

Tiffany dove into the crevice. I thought--hoped-- she was going to stay there until the danger was past, or better yet I hoped the way had opened for her to return home, but it was not to be: a heartbeat later I heard a grunt and with a heaving gasp she emerged with what might have been the Duraidd lance but was certainly not the shining thing I think Elder Donn had pictured being displayed there. "Here," she gasped. "Looks more like a javelin than a lance to me, but that's what we were seeing."

I didn't have time to sift meaning from her words.

The dragon, Namhaid, I assumed, had not shown himself yet. Not that I was eager for the sight, but knowing the danger was lurking without being able to see it was even worse. Where would he strike first? I took the lance from Tiffany, which seemed awfully light compared with others I have handled, and she took back her light. I would have cautioned her against using it, except the beast already knew where we were. Though perhaps I could change that, at least with regards to Tiffany's whereabouts. It looked as though the ancient tales of maidens given as tribute to stop a dragon's rampages might have been true after all. Or at least Namhaid had heard of them, and worse, developed an appetite.

"Lass, listen to me," I spoke in a whisper, hoping I would have time to say all I must, yet hoping also the dragon would not be able to hear. "Listen. You have done your task, and done it well. I am sure the God of All would have you get home, though it does not look like I will be able to see you to safety myself."

As I spoke, Elder Donn darted to the side with a sharp cry, in time to avoid a massive sweeping claw that sprang out of the darkness between us. I had no time to finish asking Tiffany to go with the elder and find her way to safety. It was all I could do to shield her if possible from that searching claw and another blast of heat and smoke. Most of the wood had been consumed, but something nearby caught fire. A felled beam burned like a torch, illuminating a part of the beast. There was an impression of a serpentine neck, and a flash of jagged teeth as a huge head snapped at the retreating Elder Donn, who was staggering back to us before the flame went out again.

"Are you hurt?" I put my arm out to steady him. So did Tiffany, and as soon as he regained his balance we made a dash deeper into the kirik. I hoped it would slow Namhaid but that he would not become so frustrated that he lashed out at the walls bringing it down upon us.

"I am all right," Elder Donn wheezed as we fled. "Hit the ground hard, but the claw missed.

"That could change if we don't split up," I said. "I want you to take Tiffany and get her deeper into the kirik. Go deep enough, and I don't think his head will fit in there, let alone the rest of him."

Namhaid could not be in two places at once, and I intended to lead him elsewhere.

"Ah, you do not intend to surrender yet, you want to make this interesting."

At the sound of the monstrous voice I turned around and there he was, a dragon with scales the same red-gold color of the flames he had spouted, grinning and showing all his teeth, lazing right in the path we had just come from like an enormous cat. As if to enhance that image he yawned and stretched before speaking again.

"By all means, trap yourselves in there. Make yourselves as comfortable as you like with no provisions. Come out when you are hungry, I will be watching every exit and waiting with an appetite that far outstrips your own. Or..." He paused, as if considering. "You could perhaps try running and hiding somewhere else while I hunt for your mounts. A horse, a pony, and a mule would whet my appetite nicely before I move on to delicacies such as yourselves."

I held the lance with a slackened grip, not wanting to draw his attention to it or for him to regard it as a threat. "Tell us, why should we surrender? None of us wish to hasten our deaths. On the other hand, if you were to allow the child to go free, then we could perhaps come to some agreement."

"Agreement?'" His laugh was a roar. "No one bargains with me, I am Namhaid. Death follows in my wake inevitably like night follows day. Your armor may not agree with my digestion, but neither will it save you. It cannot stop my claws or my teeth, let alone my flame."

All the while I was creeping closer, hoping Tiffany and the Elder had long since disappeared into what was left of the kirik. If I could keep him talking, get close enough to ensure a direct hit to his chest, or (like my great great grandfather) his open mouth, then I might still perish but so would the beast.

His huge eye was on me. "Shall I roast you inside of your shell, and claw it off after you burn? Or, hmm.. perhaps I should crush you inside of it? After all, at times I do prefer my meat fresh."

With that last word he lashed out at me, and faster than I could blink the sharp smile vanished into a gaping maw. There was no time to think, barely time to aim. I hurled the lance with all my strength, but the beast closed his jaws too soon and it glanced off his teeth with no visible damage to them. I dove to the side just in time to avoid his snapping jaws, but his neck snaked around following me and nearly caught me before jerking away.

At first I didn't understand why he didn't catch me. I thought maybe he was toying with me as before, until his enraged roar sounded and then I saw a chunk of rubble fall to the ground. He shook his head, dislodging another, smaller chunk of rubble from somewhere around his head. He snapped at me again before I even had time to draw my sword, but a bright light struck him right in the eye, which made him rear back with a hiss. Something seemed wrong with that eye. I didn't have long to wonder if that chunk of rubble had hit it, or how vulnerable his eyes were, or who had thrown it. Elder Donn was pulling me out of reach of his teeth.

I ought to have resisted and used the distraction to find the lance, or if nothing else readied my sword, but it was happening so fast and before I knew it a burst of flame covered the ground where I had been standing, as well as a widening circle around it. The lance was gone. The wooden shaft would never have survived those flames. I felt the heat from where I was, and it was doubtful whether even the head would be of any use after that.

"We have to get to cover," Elder Donn was saying. Tiffany thinks there's an underground space further in, we'll be safe from his fire there. And I think she has an idea." He added this last in before I could protest that I shouldn't be where either of them were. Shouldn't draw the dragon closer to them.

Before the Duraidd lance had been brought up, my plan (if you could call my despairing lack of any other idea a plan) had been to try and catch the dragon napping and at least spy out any potential weaknesses that way, if nothing else. That wasn't going to happen now. I had to work with what I'd seen thus far.

As we ducked through one of the doorways that still had an intact roof above it, I saw that Namhaid had ceased his fiery tantrum for the time being, and was scanning the area, which meant he would be watching for me. Too late to back out now, if I wanted to keep him from discovering where the others had gone. I might as well plan in here as outside.

I was pondering how to use the vulnerability of it's eyes when Elder Donn led me down a set of stairs into a storeroom of some kind. Wooden shelves lined the walls.

"Did you bring him?" Tiffany's whisper came out of the dark, echoing only slightly. It felt like a close space, but didn't sound like one. She didn't wait for an answer before she said, in a wavering voice. "I think I might have found the way home."

As much as I had wanted her to get home, I was unprepared for this. Not that I was having second thoughts, I knew home was the safest place for her and from the moment she had stepped into my care I had chafed at the responsibility, believing as I had that it conflicted with the quest I was on. It was simply so abrupt, and what had been the purpose of the God of All in sending her then? And he had, somehow. I had just begun to be sure of that.

“We don’t know if that was actually the Duraidd lance,” she said. “There’s no way that was a tomb, anyway. So I was exploring down here when I felt a gust of wind from that archway,” she moved her light over a dark arch that looked no different from any other I had seen in the building. The same plain, solid stone. The wall of a tunnel could be seen by the light. Her implication was clear: she believed this was the way home. To me, however, it looked nothing like I would have expected a passage between worlds to look, and everything like an ordinary doorway.

As though sensing my doubt, she added, “it was just like before. The air wasn’t the same as what was around me. It was fresh, and warm; when I came here the first day, the wind I felt was cool and damp when it should have been warm.”

“There is one way to find out,” Elder Donn pointed out.

He likely meant for Tiffany to go through it, but if there was fresh air through that archway it could just as easily lead to the surface—and to the dragon. I would go through it myself before allowing Tiffany to go down that tunnel alone.

I’d hardly completed the thought before something shook the earth and Namhaid’s roar thundered down from somewhere above the beginning of the steps. Stone cracked, and I thought I could see the glow of flames reflecting off the uppermost stone step. The earth shook again and this time there was no mistaking it. Namhaid knew where we were.

I didn’t think twice about my decision. I simply stepped through, pulling Tiffany and the Elder along with me.

c>={====>

The wind gusted as we stepped through the archway, and swirled around us. Bright sunshine overwhelmed my senses, followed by the colors, sounds, and smells of a festival day. There was almost everything I would have expected to see from the fair Tiffany had mentioned coming from, and then some things I ought to have expected, considering this was not the same world as my own. Not a few of the folk who wandered about were attired in the same short tunics and rough blue trousers that Tiffany had first arrived in. Many were in stranger garb than that, though there were also many who were in garments more familiar to me.

As my eyes adjusted to the light, so bright compared with the underground passage from whence we had come, Tiffany motioned us forward. "Follow me," she said. "If we don't stick together, who knows what could happen."

"Tis marvelous," Elder Donn said.

"You haven't seen the half of it," Tiffany muttered. "No time now, follow me."

And we did. I could take in the sights just as easily walking as standing still. We nearly got separated as a group of children with painted faces wandered between us, but Tiffany noticed and held back until they had passed.

“Do you know where you are going?” I asked when we could join her again.

“Sure do. I was there this morning, my time.”

She wove determinedly through the crowds. It was all we could do to keep up.

“Are you going to tell us?” Elder Donn panted. He should have saved his breath, as Tiffany did not answer. Not until we were standing by a traveling blacksmith, giving a demonstration to a crowd of people in outlandish garb. I noticed one girl a little younger than Tiffany with a cloak that had a pin shaped like a lion’s head, a knife at her belt, and a small glass phial at her side. With her there was a young man with the horns of a goat sprouting from his curly head.

“Wait here a minute,” Tiffany said. “I need to check something.”

I objected to this, but she was already gone.

“Cool costumes,” the goat-man said. He nodded to my sword. “Looks authentic. Surprised they didn’t make you peace tie it.”

There didn’t seem to be a suitable response, though he seemed pleasant enough. I inclined my head to show I’d heard him, and glanced to Elder Donn, who shrugged back helplessly. The goat-man had already turned back to watch the smith, and that’s when Tiffany returned in a breathless rush. “Come on.”

She towed us away.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to get you a weapon.”

We ducked around and off to the side of the area where the smith was working. There were many people here as well, but all had their eyes fixed on the tournament that was taking place. Knights with strange names were being announced. They were taking their places, with lances much longer and heavier looking than ones I was used to. From my vantage point, I could not read the devices on their shields, but their colors were easily seen. The more so because their steeds were fully caparisoned. One with the tinctures of azure and argent, the other with or and sable. I watched as they charged one another but Tiffany pulled my attention away before I could see the results.

“We need to get closer. The weapons are all going to be down there.”

She nodded to a rack sitting fairly near the tent of a lord and lady. The lady had given her favor to the knight in azure and argent.

The crowd cheered at something, but I never saw what. We moved to the weapons rack, all of us by unspoken agreement moving and speaking quietly so as not to draw undue attention.

“If you could choose any of these to fight the dragon, which would you take?”

This was her plan?

“I can’t simply take a weapon that doesn’t belong to me, lass. I’ll not turn thief even in such dire straits.”

Tiffany sighed. “I thought you might say that. Listen, I guarantee you if they knew what it was for no one would stop you. If you could convince them you weren’t a lunatic, I mean. Which is why we can’t stop to try. We don’t know how time is passing while we’re here.”

I didn’t have time to parse her words before she added, “Anyway we’re not stealing it, we’re borrowing it.

“Borrowing it without permission.”

“But with every intention of bringing it back.”

Her smile was bright. She assumed it would be possible.

“I think,” I said slowly, not sure how to let her down, “that they would mind very much if one of these weapons was incinerated beyond repair.”

“I plan on returning it in working order,” she said with a grin. “I have another idea. But I can’t really explain it, you’ll just have to trust me.”

‘You are not coming back with me, Theophania. I mean it. It’s too dangerous. Elder, tell her. Please.” I turned a pleading look to Elder Donn, who was looking at the weaponry. He was touching a lance that was much more like what I was accustomed to, the sharp head of which was polished to a shine. It was a thing of beauty, surely a weapon for a hero like my great great grandfather had been.

“This is the one. Take it, Sir Uriah. Take this one. If you doubt you can return it, I will leave the price of it in its place.” He pulled out his money pouch and opened it to reveal several silver pennies.

I hesitated. There was an odd note to his voice. He was like one who walks in his sleep and speaks of what he sees.

Tiffany peered at the coins. “That’s probably way more than enough,” she said. “Is that real silver?”

Elder Donn ignored the question, but the odd tone in his voice was gone when he said, “this is the one I saw in my dream. If I leave the price of a good weapon so that it could be replaced if needed, will you accept it?”

I hesitated. Trusting a dream weapon, untested, made about as much sense as trusting the one we had found at the kirik, and look how that had turned out?

“You’ve seen my world,” Tiffany said. “You have to believe it now.”

“Believe what?”

“That Someone Else was in charge of bringing me to your world. Someone who’s bigger than both.”

I already believed the God of All had sent her. When that had changed, I could not have said. Another denial leapt ready to my tongue, but I wavered. Trust in the lance was not what she was asking of me.

“Please,” Tiffany said. “I don’t know how much time we have!”

She could be right about the time, and with no way of knowing what was happening back home I made another swift decision.

“I will repay you if I can, Elder, but yes. I will take it. Tiffany, if you will show me the way back, I believe your part in this is done.”

Tiffany grinned. “We’ll see.”

At my request, Elder Donn left the entire pouch, despite Tiffany’s protestations that it “really was more than enough.” I would far rather pay double it’s worth if possible since I was unable to give the warrior to whom it belonged the courtesy of a request.

On the way back, she bade us wait by the smithy again. “Just for a minute,” she said. “Don’t move.”

Well, it wasn’t like we had a choice.

When she was gone, Elder Donn said in a low murmur “I will help you persuade her to stay. I believe you are right that her part is done. Surely with both of us in agreement she cannot argue. ”

That was a relief, that I would not have to argue with the two of them. “Thank you, Elder.”

The wait was indeed brief, then she returned carrying something in both arms, wrapped in the folds of her cloak that I could not see, save for a flash of bright scarlet.

After that she plowed through the crowds, and I had little time to wonder about her plan before we made it back to the place we had entered. A different arch, she said, than she had come from. How then did we know it would let us through? I supposed we had no choice but to try.

I stepped closer and a gentle wind swirled past me, around me, as though beckoning. It was just as before. I relaxed and turned to say farewell to Tiffany, and saw the wind tugging at her cloak as well. She clutched the object she was holding tighter to her and dashed through the arch before I could say a word. I reached out to stop her, but when the wind gusted again all I caught was the hem of her cloak. Elder Donn caught hold of me, but we were all pulled through the archway. The wind died abruptly, along with the noise from the faire and the light from a summer day. It was pitch black, and colder, but stuffy. We were back under the kirik.

Elder Donn sniffed the air. “Something is burning.”

No sooner had he said this than something fell above us with a crash. A glow of fire illuminated the wall of stone and revealed the same stairway we had descended earlier, before traveling to Tiffany’s world. The entrance had been enlarged, now rubble covered the steps.

As much as I had hoped we had not returned to the exact same place, we had. And it seemed we were trapped. Unless…

Tiffany shone her light around the room. Behind us, the tunnel which had been a doorway to another world now doubtless led elsewhere, even though it looked the same. Perhaps deeper under the kirik. Perhaps up to the surface. I would have rather been able to find out where it led before sending them into it, but there was no time.

“Elder, take Tiffany down that tunnel.”

Elder Donn gave a single nod. I more than half expected Tiffany to protest, and she did open her mouth to say something, but another crash and burst of flame interrupted her. The earth shook again and something fell down the stairs with a crack.

“Go on,” I said. “If the God of All wills it, I will follow.”

“I’m counting on it, but just in case.”

She set down her bundle and wrapped her arms around my waist.

Then before I could react she picked up her bundle and followed Elder Donn through the archway. I gripped the lance and turned to face the fire.

If the God of All wills it. I had spoken confidently, but the more I thought about my last attempt the more I realized I would have to let Namhaid get a lot closer before I tried another throw. Or would even that work? As the glow of fire faded and Namhaid still did not appear, I realized I had no guarantee of enough light to see by. Tiffany’s light would be useful right now.

The next sound I heard was not a crash, but a rumbling laugh.

“Little warrior, I thought you had hidden. How delightful. Do you think you can stand against me?”

The reflection of flame on the walls had dimmed, but it was enough to see the serpentine shape creeping down through the doorway.

If I could keep him talking, I might stand a chance.

“How could I hope to hide from a powerful creature such as yourself? You would have caught my scent. No, it is better for me to face reality, come what may.”

I edged towards the wall. How keen is a dragon’s night vision?

There was a hiss, and a burst of flame. One of the shelves caught fire and suddenly I didn’t have to worry about light anymore.

Namhaid stretched himself to his full height. By the firelight I could see the armored scales glittering all along his lithe body. Even his chest, though not armored exactly like the rest of him, had a thick, knobby hide. A shot from a ballista might be able to pierce that hide, but not a throw from me.

“Face reality?” Namhaid fairly purred. “Face your death, you mean. Yes, do take a good look at me. That twig you carry will burn as easily as the last one.”

I took another step, but forward this time. “Truly, on my own I have no hope of assailing you. If I ever believed it was possible I would not be so foolish now.”

And yet here I was. Closer, closer.

“You flatter me. What do you hope to gain by it? Not your life, surely. Nor that of the kirikman, or the little maiden. Where are they? Did they leave you to face your death alone?”

“He’s not alone.”

Elder Donn’s voice was accompanied by the brightest light from Tiffany’s device we had yet seen. Namhaid hissed and reared his head away from the light. He opened his jaws. Any moment he would let loose a burst of flame… I had to stop him. This was the opportunity I had been waiting for, except now he writhed too far away and remained in motion. One throw was all I would have, and I was sure Namhaid knew it, the way he moved. Now his tail flashed around, narrowly missing me. Now his wings. Still the light shone brighter, and the beast arced his head up in the air. The flames reached to the ceiling, but as he began to direct them toward us, something white and foamy shot directly into his mouth. I had not noticed Tiffany creeping from the mouth of the tunnel, but the white foam sprayed from the scarlet cylinder she carried. So that was the contraption she had brought from her world.

Namhaid retched and spewed foam but no flames followed.

He roared and lashed out, but she jumped back out of reach.

“Tiffany! To me!”

She ran to me, still holding that scarlet cylinder, and Namhaid’s eyes turned to us.

Aim for the eyes? Or try for the open mouth again?

I wished Elder Donn had seen more in his dream. Where was he? I had lost track of him after Tiffany reappeared.

“No more games, little warrior,” Namhaid rasped. “Lay down your weapons, and I will kill you quickly and that is the best you can hope for.”

If he could have roasted us, I was sure he would have by now. I felt the smallest spark of hope rekindle, but still I could not be secure in my aim with such a small target as his eyes, and he still did not open his mouth wide enough for me to aim down his throat.

I was not about to lower my weapons, but Tiffany caught me off guard when she laughed outright.

“I always wondered if a fire extinguisher would work on a dragon’s fire. It looks like it did. No one at home will believe me though, and that’s a pity.”

If she meant to provoke the dragon it worked. With a roar he leapt at us, jaws wide as though to swallow us whole, or perhaps I’d been wrong about his fire. I took my chance—God of All, guide my aim!—and hurled the lance with all my strength straight into his open mouth. At the same moment Tiffany let loose another stream of foam. I leapt back, dragging Tiffany with me, as his jaws crashed into the place we had been moments before, driving the lance further in.

Namhaid did not move again.

The blade had struck home, and the strength of my throw had been aided by the sheer force and impetuosity of his own attack: between the two, the lance was lodged deep in his head, and now blood pooled from his nostrils instead of the smoke that had so recently been there. I felt an impulse to shield Tiffany from the sight, but she had already turned away and was running to Elder Donn, who we could barely see by the light of the smoldering shelf. He was crawling awkwardly towards Tiffany’s device, which was askew on the ground at a distance from him. The bright light was gone.

“Are you all right?” She asked. “What happened?”

“His tail. Knocked it right out.”

Somewhere in Namhaid’s thrashing when faced with the light, his tail had crashed into the device, knocking it neatly from Elder Donn’s hand. He cradled his wrist as he went on to explain how he had dropped to the ground to avoid that tail knocking his head.

“I fear ‘tis broken,” he said. Then flexed his wrist and winced..

“If it was broken, you couldn’t do that,” I pointed out. “Does it hurt much? It could be sprained.”

“Not this,” Elder Donn said, muffling a laugh. “This stings a bit. I meant the light. It went out when I lost my grip.”

Tiffany hugged him. “That doesn’t matter. You’re safe. I saw you go down and I was worried.”

“Speaking of worried…” I raised my eyebrows at her. The effect may have been lost in the gloom of the fading fire, for she grinned up at me and then scampered to get her device.

The light worked just fine, belying Elder Donn’s concern.

“You should get the lance out while I still have some battery life left,” she said. “That light was really bright, I bet it used a lot and I don’t have a way to charge it.”

Battery life? Charge it? The device had been battered, certainly, but nothing else she said made sense.“You’re speaking nonsense again, young lady.”

But she was already away, the light bobbing a little as she strode towards the dragon’s body.

“Eugh, it’s going to be a mess. We’re gonna have to clean it really well before we can return it, if that’s what you still want to do.”

“Stop changing the subject.” But she did have a point, that there was no need to continue on down here. I went over and tried pulling out the lance. It was wedged in tightly, and there was little room to brace myself to pull, but in the end I managed it. She was right again; it was a mess, and now so was I.

“There’s a well up above ground,” Tiffany said. “We can clean you up there.”

We picked our way over the rubble from the dragon’s rage, and ascended the stairs. The smell of smoke was still on the wind, but the majority of the fires had been extinguished.

I had been about to return to the subject of her putting herself into danger by returning to face Namhaid instead of fleeing with Elder Donn as I had ordered, but the approach of a group of townsfolk, armed with scythes and staves and the like, took priority. At their head was a sturdily built older man in robes much like Elder Donn’s, who carried a large pike of the kind that stopped cavalry charges when men stood together in formation with them.

Upon seeing us emerge, the elder slackened his grip on his pike and rested on it as he might on a staff.

“You’re alive! We saw the beast descend after you and feared the worst.” He took in the mess on the lance and on myself. “The dragon?”

“The beast is dead,” Elder Donn said in a clear ringing voice so as to be heard by the entire group. “Slain by Sir Uriah, an instrument of the God of All, aided by a traveler sent by Him between worlds.

Within moments, it seemed the whole town knew. More had stayed than I realized, and many came to thank us. Tiffany looked abashed at the praise they heaped on her. I myself tried to direct more of it away from me and towards the others, (as Elder Donn had taken none of his due credit,) and to the God of All, who had been the guiding hand behind all our success. At some point messengers were sent out to try and catch up to those who had fled to let them know it was safe to return.

They feasted us that evening; a greater celebration surely had not been seen in that town since my grandfather’s grandfather had slain Breunachd. More so since none of us were greatly injured. One of those who had stayed was a healer, who was able to look at Elder Donn’s wrist, which had started to swell, and wrap it with a poultice of knitbone. A light sprain, possibly, which would keep him from chronicling our adventures for a time. (Thus I consented to write my part in it in full as the reader can see, lest anyone forget the true story.) Tiffany and I had escaped unscathed, thanks be to the God of All.

Our mounts had not strayed far. Even in his fright Riastrad would not have run all the way home to his stable, the mule had enough sense to flee only until the danger was past, and the pony had stuck by them.

Housing for the night was easily arranged, but it was late before we were away to our beds. Many plans had to be made. My duty was to return to the king straight away, and I intended for Elder Donn and Tiffany both to accompany me. We would stop at the kirik of Carranburn first, of course, and speak with Father Beithe, but Elder Donn had played no small part in our victory and I would see that recognized, alongside Tiffany and her part. According to Elder Donn it had been long since another Traveller had come to the kingdom. For that alone she would have been welcomed and celebrated by King Arlan, even if she had not been so essential to the success of the quest.

Elder Donn agreed to accompany us, though he plainly cared nothing for the recognition of his part, bent as he was on plying Tiffany with questions about her world and all we had seen there. She would answer just as gladly, which only fueled Elder Donn’s excitement. This went on for some time before I intervened, seeing her stifled yawns. I sent her off to the the healer’s house and the soft cot that awaited her there.

I followed for a ways, as I intended to check on Riastrad before heading to my own bed, but as she neared the doorway she froze and called out to me.

“Do you feel that wind?” she turned again to me.

“Wind?” The night was mostly still. A little stuffy what with the lingering smoke that still rose from ruined and half ruined buildings, even though the fires were out.

At least it was still for me. For her, though I could not feel it, something stirred her cloak and her hair, drawing them towards the doorway.

“I think… it’s time for me to go home,” she said.

Bare hours earlier I would have welcomed that news. Now? After the danger had passed? It seemed unfair to not show her the best our kingdom had to offer as a reward for her part in the dragon’s defeat. If she left now, she would pass right into legend, indistinguishable from the tale of of the wood nymph who had given King Talvar his sword and shown him the key to winning his kingdom.

“I’m sorry for worrying you all that time,” she said, filling the silence that stretched as I tried to think of something to say. “And for not trying to explain my plan.” She shuffled her feet. “Maybe you could’ve made a better one if I’d shown you what the fire extinguisher could do.”

I sighed and shook my head. “I don’t suppose I gave you much reason to expect that I would’ve trusted your plan. And the God of All surely kept you, which was my main concern.”

“Kept us.” Tiffany said.

And it was truer than she realized. I had started out with no real hope for myself. It was only beginning to sink in that it was over, with a far better outcome than I had envisioned. “Indeed.”

A wistful smile crossed her face. “Will you tell Elder Donn I said thank you?”

“Wait. Wait here a moment, don’t go yet. Let me get Elder Donn, it will not take long and he will want to send you off with a blessing.”

She cast a glance back at the doorway, and nibbled at her lower lip, but nodded.

Elder Donn wasn’t far, and when I said that Tiffany needed to say farewell he understood what I meant at once and hastened to follow me back. He still carried the lance in hand, now clean and shining as before, and though I reckoned the kirik would be glad to keep it in memory of the deliverance from Namhaid’s wrath, I thought it best to give Tiffany the chance to return it to its rightful owner.

She wrinkled her forehead when she heard my intent. “What about the silver?”

“Keep it. I will repay Elder Donn. Goodness knows I can’t repay the debt I owe you, as you probably saved my life—even though you ignored my instructions to do it, I’m not so bent on chiding you for it as I was earlier.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” she said.

“Well, I owe whatever warrior this belongs to his own weapon back, and in truth it still pangs my conscience that we did not ask permission to borrow it first.”

Tiffany grinned. “I keep telling you, slaying a dragon is the coolest thing that weapon has ever done. The owner would be honored. If he knew.”

“Coolest?” Elder Donn asked, puzzled but always willing to expand his knowledge of her dialect.

She waved a hand. “Best. Most awesome. Wrong word, sorry. But I’ll take it back for you if you like. And maybe someday I’ll be able to bring the silver back to you. Of course if I ever get the chance to come back I will.“

She looked up at us, bright-eyed, but smiling so that I nearly missed the tears in the corners of her eyes. She surely remembered what Elder Donn had said about return visits being rare, and already she had returned once. But then, nothing about our people traveling to another world has ever been recorded, and Elder Donn and I had done so. Who could say what else might be possible? Not I, not anymore.

I knelt in front of her. There was one thing I would not have her in doubt of. “Theophania, do not worry about returning the silver, but if you ever can return to see us in less perilous times, I would like that very much. Fare well, wherever you fare.”

“Fare well,” she echoed. Then she put her arms around me, as she had done when I had sent her off down the tunnel. This time, though I was still startled, I had time to return her embrace. She tightened her grip before releasing me and turning to Elder Donn, who was the better prepared for her.

“Oh kay. I really do have to go. I’ll miss you both.”

Elder Donn ceremoniously placed the lance in her hands. “As we will miss you. Go with the blessing of the God of All, and if ever you may return to us you will be most welcome.”

Even holding the lance, she managed a more perfect courtesy than she had when I first met her. Which must have reminded her that she still wore the green wool dress and russet cloak. “Oh!” She unfastened the cloak and handed it to Elder Donn. “I’m sure someone else will need this more than I will.” She fingered the skirt of her dress, a sheepish look on her face. “I left my own clothes back at your kirik,” she told him. “The dress was more comfortable without them, and I did think I’d be coming back. I know they’ll be strange to you, but hopefully they can replace this for someone my size?”

Elder Donn laughed. “We will put them to good use, never fret about it.”

She grinned wide. “Wait till my friends see it. It’s not going to be proof of what happened to me on it’s own, but it’s something that would be hard to explain away.” She smoothed her hair out of her face, which, though I could feel no wind, wind appeared to be tugging at hair and skirts and growing more insistent every moment. She turned to face the doorway, but cast one last look back at us. She said nothing more, but waved a hand and smiled.. Then turned and walked through the doorway. The shadowed darkness of the doorway swallowed her, but for a brief instant I thought I saw bright sunlight beyond and caught a hint of the sounds of a festival day before all was dark and silent again. I knew without a step forward that that doorway would only lead me to the inside of the healer’s house if I stepped through.

“Well,” Elder Donn sighed. “That is a pity that she had to go so soon, don’t you think?”

I did not answer, but I knew that he knew I was also disappointed, rather than relieved that she was no longer my responsibility, as well as grateful that she had come after all. It was the closest he came to telling me he told me so.

Here I end my story. May the God of All use it as he will.

Epilogue.

Sir Uriah agreed to record the whole adventure for us, and so long was it in coming that my wrist was almost fully healed by the time we received it back at the Kirik of Carranburn. He had grumbled a little about his insufficiency for the task, as was his way, but in the end he relented without much pressure. True, I could have dictated what I had seen to another here at the Kirik, but I was not there when Tiffany appeared and that was a key point we wanted for our records, along with the very moment of the dragon’s defeat as I did not get an unobstructed view.

For one who claimed to be unused to the task of the chronicler, Sir Uriah has a good memory and a fair hand with words. (Indeed I dare say he did as well as others who have had more practice and have written of the Travellers, even if those tales may have been written faster—but there he says I am biased because I have seen Namhaid with my own eyes and so his words have only to draw up the memory before my own mind makes up the difference. I will let Father Beithe be the judge.)

Now that my wrist has healed I can add a detail or two that Sir Uriah would not have added even if his tale had extended beyond Tiffany’s departure. The rewards that King Arlan bestowed upon him for his success in delivering the kingdom were great, both riches and honor, but as for the money Sir Uriah sent much of it to the kirik of Kynvan to be used in the repairs and rebuilding of their town. Deep under the rubble of the collapsed side of the kirik, they found the tomb of Sir Rioghan, and in the tomb they found a shining lance. The Duraidd lance had indeed survived, but as the God of All is not bound by the legends men create, it seems to have pleased Him to use something else in the defeat of Namhaid. Kynvan’s priest offered the lance back to Sir Uriah, who keeps it not only as the heirloom it is, but in memory of his own adventure.

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