Chapter 1: Things That Go Bump In the Night
Jack Raleigh loved driving if only for the fact that he could control the music. The fact that he wasn’t driving now wasn’t nearly as painful as having to endure the painful sounds of “positive country” his roommate Reese apparently loved.
“I hate the radio,” Jack muttered as he heard another female vocalist with that Southern accent he was still getting used to.
“Ah, you need to expand a little, Jack,” Reese countered. “Open your mind, move out your comfort zone, be more open to different kinds of music, y’know?”
“The same could be said about you, Reese,” Cary piped up from the back seat. “I’ve never heard you listen to any of Jack’s music.”
“Well,” Reese said, his voice rising slightly, “I’d be happy to let Jack pick the station if—”
“I can’t,” Jack said testily. “I told you I don’t know of any synthpop stations in this city, or did my bit about ‘I hate the radio’ not tip you off?”
“Are you guys arguing about the music again?” Stefan said from his seat.
“Yes,” all three of them answered at once.
Stefan sighed. “I swear you guys are so…”
“Stupid?” Jack said.
“Immature?” Reese said.
“Unworthy of your lofty presence?” Cary said.
“All of the above,” Stefan answered with a slight smile.
The conversation had reached its end, and as much as Jack hated country music, he decided to bear it for a few more minutes. He, Reese, and Cary could keep the overblown argument going for quite some time without a problem, but Stefan, being new to the group, hadn’t quite settled in and was still prone to take the ‘argument’ a little too seriously.
The song ended and the DJ popped on the air. Jack didn’t allow himself a sigh of relief; DJs could very often be more annoying than the songs they were playing. “We’ve got a bit of news for you, folks,” he began. “Apparently we had a plane make an emergency landing at the airport just a little while ago. No one was killed, though we do have a few injured people on their way to the hospital now. According to the police the matter is still under investigation, but what we know so far is that something tore a large hole in the bottom of the plane while it was flying over the Blue Ridge mountains. Fortunately the landing gear was still intact and they were able to land, but no one knows what caused the problem in the first place. Some people are wondering if it was a bomb, but some of the passengers have claimed that the plane struck an object in midair. Anyway, we’ll get you back to your music and bring you more as this develops, so here’s that classic song ‘Amazing Grace’ as performed by the Gaither Vocal Band in 1979.”
“Okay, I draw the line at the Gaithers!” Jack said, reaching for the volume knob.
Reese jerked the steering wheel, throwing the car’s passengers around and giving him enough time to turn up the volume. “Ah-aaaaamazing grace!” he belted at the top of his lungs.
Jack groaned loudly and banged his head repeatedly on the dashboard.
Cary leaned forward from the back and patted Jack on the back. “You did ask for it,” he said. “Best you can do now is sing along.”
Jack sighed, sat back up in his seat, and looked out his window trying to tune out the music. He wished it were a little brighter out so he could see the scenery on the back road they were on, but the sun doesn’t shine at ten-o’clock, even during daylight savings time. The darkness only made the flickering light ahead on the road that much more obvious.
Jack tapped Reese. “Think that’s a fire?” he said.
Reese turned down the volume. “Up there?”
“Yeah, on the right. There’s no houses out here, are there?”
“I don’t know. What, you think it’s a bonfire?”
“Who knows,” Jack said, pulling out his cell phone as they got closer.
When they were a few hundred feet away, Cary nearly yelled, “What the fudge is that?” At the same time, Reese slammed on the brakes and swerved to the right; no easy task considering the size of the SUV they were riding in.
Time seemed to slow down as the car ground to a halt. Jack saw the tops of several trees on fire and some large shape slumped at the bottom extremely close to the road, apparently having fallen there from a very high altitude.
The SUV’s front tires ran over something the size of a speed bump.
The shape suddenly grew much bigger and shot a jet of flame straight out, setting even more trees on fire.
In the light from the fire, all four passengers could clearly see the shape now. It looked like a large, horse-sized cross between a lizard and a crocodile with gold scales that were more like a snake’s than anything else. What stood out, however, were the large, leathery bat-like wings protruding from its back and the long, serpentine tail that extended underneath the car.
“Does that answer your question, Cary?” Reese said.
“That can’t be real…” Stefan muttered. “There’s no way that dragon can be real…”
“I’m getting a better look,” Reese said, turning on the warning flashers and hopping out of the car.
“What the crap do you think you’re doing!” Stefan yelled.
Cary opened his door. “I’m going too,” he said. “You guys coming?”
“And get roasted?” Stefan said, his voice still raised.
“Yeah,” Jack said. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Hey,” Cary said with a grin. “What does the T-shirt say? ‘When in the presence of a dragon and a halfling, you only need to outrun the halfling.’ Now just look at Reese out there and tell me it’s not safe.”
Jack looked at Reese walking up to the dragon and back at Cary. “Fine, let’s go.”
Stefan groaned. “We’re gonna get killed,” he muttered as he opened his door and hopped out to follow Jack and Reese.
They caught up to Reese who was standing close to the dragon with a guilty look on his face. Cary looked closely at the dragon and noticed something odd about its facial expression. “Is it in pain?” he asked.
“Of course it’s in pain,” Reese said. “I just ran over its tail with a Ford Explorer!”
The dragon whined sharply and winced, as if it hated to be reminded of the fact.
“Sorry,” Reese said quickly. “I mean…”
The dragon closed its eyes and shook its head. I’ve had worse.
Everyone jumped. “Was that…?” Reese said.
“Okay, so it’s a telepathic dragon,” Jack said. “Any second now we’ll have a phoenix appear out of nowhere and add even more fire to this mess.”
No, I don’t think any phoenixes followed me, the dragon said, completely serious.
An awkward silence hung in the air. Finally, Cary said, “So, um… what’s your name?”
Feanor. Feanor MacDonald, if you want to get specific. And you?
“Um… I’m Cary, this is Jack, the driver’s Reese, and that guy back there is Stefan.” He motioned with his thumb back towards the car where Stefan had apparently slinked back to.
The dragon smiled a toothy grin. Pleased to meet you.
Reese raised his hand awkwardly. “Um, real quick — are you a guy or girl dragon?”
The dragon looked startled, lifted itself up onto all four legs and stuck its head between its legs. It snorted, looked back up at Reese and said, You know, I’ve never quite figured that out.
After a pause just long enough to make everyone uncomfortable, it added, Just kidding; I’m a guy.
Reese, Cary, and Jack looked at each other. No one said anything, but the obvious message was “What have we gotten ourselves into?”
Feanor noticed this and ventured, You really haven’t seen a dragon before, have you?
All three of them shook their heads.
Feanor closed his eyes and blew a smoke ring. How far south did I go?
“Deep South,” Jack said. “South Carolina.”
Feanor opened his wings again. I can’t look, he said. How bad are they?
Jack took a hard look. The membranes were semitransparent normally, but he could see several points where it was torn or bruised, not to mention a couple of places were the joints were clearly not aligned properly. “Not good,” he said.
“And I don’t think hospitals around here treat dragons,” Reese said.
“You hit an airplane, didn’t you?” Cary said.
I guess, Feanor said with a slight toss of his tail. It knocked me straight out. Last thing I knew was I hit something, next thing I knew was my tail got ran over.
“I’m sorry!” Reese said.
I’m just playing, Feanor said, showing his teeth again.
A branch fell out of one of the burning trees with a crash. “We should probably get out of here,” Jack said.
“And leave him?” Cary said, pointing at Feanor. “In case you haven’t noticed, he can’t exactly fly right now.”
“I might be able to fit him on the roof,” Reese ventured. “We could take him back to the apartment and—”
“Oh, hell, no, you are not doing that!” Stefan yelled, running up to the group. “One, we can’t fit him in the door. Two, people will see us with him. Three, we have class tomorrow! What’s he going to do during the day? We’ve barely got enough food for us; how are we going to feed a dragon?”
“Cary’s right,” Jack said. “We can’t just leave him here.”
“Well, what are we going to do?” Stefan said.
Jack stared at the ground deep in thought. Finally he looked at Feanor and asked, “Feanor, how long do you think it’ll take for your wings to heal?”
Feanor rocked his head from side to side. Naturally, it’d take about three months, and that’s assuming all these joints are set properly. But if you knew a healer or could get a potion, I could be ready in a day.
“We could probably find something on the internet,” Reese said.
“Make sure you’re not buying that Japanese energy drink, though,” Cary added.
Jack shook his head. “No… I think I know who to call.” He turned to Stefan. “He’ll be gone within the week, and I’ll take responsibility for him in the meantime.”
Stefan shook his head. “I really don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Come on, Stefan,” Reese said. “You’re only ever in your room long enough to study and sleep anyway; you’ll never know the difference!”
“I’ll know the difference if there’s a dragon carrying on just outside my door!”
I promise to be quiet, Feanor said hopefully.
Stefan looked at Feanor and groaned. “I wash my hands of this; you guys win.”
—————————————————
It was two-o’clock in the morning by the time they returned to the apartment. The apartment complex exclusively housed students, however, so there was a very good chance that someone would see them.
“Naw, anyone that’s up now either has their nose in a book or is plastered drunk,” Reese said as he tried his best to handle the turn gently.
Isn’t ‘plastered drunk’ redundant? Feanor said, leaning his head down to Reese’s window.
“It’s emphasis, not redundancy,” Reese said flatly. “Anyway, we’re here.”
It was a little trickier for Feanor to get off the Explorer than it was for him to get on; Cary and Jack had to help pry some of his claws out of the car’s body for starters.
Sorry about your car, Feanor said sheepishly.
“Naw, don’t worry about it,” Reese said with a shrug. “I’ll just tell people I picked up a dragon hitchhiker.”
“Yeah, that’ll go over really well at the body shop,” Stefan muttered. “Did anyone call the fire department?”
“I did; they’re on their way there,” Cary said.
“Did you tell them what caused the fire?” Jack said as he pried out the last claw.
Cary shook his head. “No, they probably would’ve thought it was a prank then.”
Getting Feanor through the door was a chore in and of itself. The door to the apartment could fit a horse, but it failed to take into account the large wings on Feanor’s horse-sized body. Any attempt to manipulate the wings’ position usually resulted in howls of pain, sometimes accompanied by a spurt of flame.
“Hopefully we’ll still have a couch by the time this is over,” Stefan muttered to himself.
After much straining and groaning and frequent glances around to make sure no one was watching, they finally managed to squeeze Feanor into the apartment, with the coffee table hastily shoved out of the way, his tail wrapped around the television set and corresponding electronics, and his head resting on the kitchen counter.
“Comfortable?” Jack asked.
Feanor rolled his eyes. Well, I could complain, but I won’t.
Jack nodded. “I wish we had someplace outdoors to put you, but… well, we’re not exactly kings here.”
I understand, Feanor said. I am thankful, so please don’t take offense at this, but…
“But what?”
What about my wings? I doubt you can keep me here for a full season.
Jack grinned. “I’ll give my uncle a call; he always told me stories about dragons and elves and whatnot. He should at least be able to point me in the right direction.”
Feanor closed his eyes. Thank you. For someone that’s never seen a dragon before, you’re handling this quite well.
Jack chuckled. “Ah, it’ll sink in about sometime tomorrow afternoon. In the meantime, I’d try and get some rest. Reese and I each have eight-o’clock classes, so we’ve got to get up soon.”
I’ll get sleep during the day, don’t worry.
Jack nodded. “Good night, then.”
—————————————————
The wail pierced through the fog like a fifty ton bag of cinder blocks hitting one blind-sided on the left temple. It was days like this the financial incentive for Jack not to throw his alarm clock against the wall almost wasn’t enough.
The shower didn’t help much. If anything it made Jack want to go back to sleep. Picking a wardrobe was a chore; it was that odd time of year when South Carolina’s weather patterns were at their most convoluted. The morning could be freezing while the afternoon would be murder in winter clothes. Add in the fact that Jack had been avoiding laundry for the past week, and pickings were slim indeed. He finally decided on a pair of cargo pants that had seen minimal use, a random t-shirt from the “okay to wear in public” pile, and a hooded sweatshirt. He checked himself in the mirror and in a sudden flash of comic inspiration he stuck his hands in his pockets with his thumbs exposed, rocked back on his heels, and said to no one in particular, “Hello, I’m a Mac.”
His self-amusement was interrupted by the smell of cooking eggs from the kitchen. Grabbing his untouched backpack, he walked out into the common area to find Reese holding a skillet over his head over a small jet-blue flame from Feanor.
“Oh, crap, we have a dragon, don’t we,” he muttered.
So you weren’t kidding, Feanor said.
Reese noticed Jack and grinned. “Remember how I said how much I missed my gas stove back home?”
Jack shook his head. “You’re using an injured dragon to cook french toast. Somehow, that just seems…”
“Wrong?” Reese finished. “That’s good,” he muttered to Feanor as he pulled the skillet down to examine the contents.
Feanor shut off his flame and started breathing heavily. It’s not a problem, really, he said. Consider it my rent payment.
Jack shrugged. “Please tell me you made enough for me too.”
Reese handed Jack a plate with three golden-brown pieces on it. “Enjoy!” He then threw three more pieces into the skillet. “You ready?” he asked Feanor.
Feanor responded with another controlled flame. So you are all students? he asked as Reese continued his cooking.
“That’s right,” Reese said. “I’m studying English, Cary’s studying math (which is insane), Stefan’s in the engineering program, and Jack here is majoring in ‘Undecided.’ That’s good.” He pulled down the skillet, flipped over the toast, and gave Feanor a chance to catch his breath before starting again.
What’s ‘Undecided’? Feanor asked.
“It’s just Reese’s way of saying I don’t know what to do with my life,” Jack said, fingering his fork. “Which stinks because I have to declare my major within two weeks. I’ve been thinking about philosophy, since I like thinking, but the classes all involve a lot of writing, which I don’t like.”
“That’s good,” Reese said, throwing the finished toast onto another plate. “You want me to make you some?”
No, thanks, Feanor said. But do you have any meat?
Reese opened the refrigerator. “We’ve got some ground beef, but it’s not a good idea to eat that raw.”
Feanor made an odd hissing noise which Jack assumed was laughter. Don’t worry, he said, the laughter evident in his thoughts, we dragons cook our food after we eat it, not before.
Jack turned to Reese and shrugged. “Makes sense.”
—————————————————
“You look tired.”
Jack pulled his head out from beneath his arm and looked up. “Hey, Ruth.”
Ruth was a year behind Jack, technically speaking, but she had entered college with several AP credits and was on the fast track to a double major. Thus, she ended up in an upper-level history class with Jack, who was on the slow track to nowhere. She had her dirty blonde hair let down as she usually did, and as much as Jack tried not to admit it, he was attracted.
“So were you wildly partying last night?” she asked with her usual flair.
“On fire,” Jack said, trying his best not to sound groggy, irritated, or tired and failing at all three.
“Oh?” she said. “Was it KA, Pi-Kapp?”
Jack shook his head and sat up. “No, just me and the roommates. A few games of Mario Kart and a late-night run to Jack in the Box… really late.”
Ruth smiled. “Well, glad you had fun!” She turned to go back to her seat before the class could start.
“Thanks…” Jack muttered weakly, cursing himself for once again behaving like a headless chicken in front of her.
The class was mildly interesting to Jack; history had always been a fascination of his, but twenty-five minutes into the class he was fighting off sleep. He made a mental note in-between head bobs to grab some coffee — or some energy drink — before his next class.
In his break he managed to find his way down to the student center. He was busy mulling over the choice between the Starbucks Doubleshot or the SoBe Adrenaline Rush when Dr. Sullivan, his academic advisor, happened to walk by.
Don’t notice me, don’t notice me, he thought.
“Oh, hey, Jack.”
Crap. “Hello.”
“So have you decided on your major yet?” Dr. Sullivan asked in his usual smooth voice. He was always calm and collected, a trait which Jack respected, yet always unnerved him since he always saw Dr. Sullivan when he was making big decisions.
“Eh, not yet,” Jack said, reaching an arm behind his back in (somewhat) feigned embarrassment.
He did his best not to show it, but Jack could still sense the frustration coming from him. “Well, you know you have to register for classes next week, and if you don’t have a major declared, then you can’t register.”
“I’ll pick one by then,” Jack said decisively, hoping the matter was settled.
“Well,” Dr. Sullivan said, “it usually takes about a week for all the meetings to happen, all the forms to get signed, you know, stuff to happen, so it’d be really good if we could get started by Friday. Do you think you can pick one by then?”
Jack nodded in resignation. “Sure. Friday.” He started to move, but the conversation lingered.
“So what were you considering?”
Jack shrugged. “History, philosophy, English; the one thing I don’t like is the writing. But I just can’t seem to — I don’t really want to do a science. And it’s too late to do art or music.”
He nodded. “Well, just think about it some more and get back to me by Friday, okay?” Jack nodded, and the doctor walked on.
Jack turned back to the vending machine. Pick a major? He couldn’t even choose which freaking energy drink to buy. With a groan, he picked the Adrenaline Rush simply because it was two ounces bigger.
“I guess it’ll be history,” he muttered to himself as he popped open the can. “It’s the only thing I can actually make myself give a crap about.” But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the first conversation he had had with Ruth.
It was the first day of class, and the teacher randomly assigned people to meet each other as an ice breaker. Jack and Ruth were selected and, after getting through the usual “What’s your major?” and “Where are you living?” stuff, Jack had asked, “So why are you a history major?”
Ruth laughed. “Oh, I’m mostly a Biology major; I’m just taking the history classes so I can understand the newspaper.”
“Well,” Jack said for the benefit of anyone listening, “I guess all I’ll ever be able to do is understand the newspaper. History it is, then.”
He checked his watch. His next class wasn’t for another half hour, and he needed something to do… He pulled out his phone and called his parents.
But his parents weren’t home; the answering machine was: the answering machine that still had the same recording on it that Jack had recorded when he was seven years old. His mom thought it was cute; he thought it was freaky.
“Hey, it’s Jack,” he said. “Just wondering if I could get Uncle Kevin’s number; I need his expertise on… something that’s come up. Oh, and…” He briefly debated telling them his decision, but decided against it. “I’ll talk to you guys later. Bye!” He flipped his phone closed and started trudging back to class.
—————————————————
So I’ve heard of these cars, but I’d never seen one until last night, Feanor said. What kind of magic does it take to run?
Reese smiled. “Does gasoline count? We don’t really have magic here.”
No — oh, that’s right, you don’t. So what’s… gasoline?
Reese shrugged. “Eh, I’m not the scientist. It comes from oil which is buried under the ground in some places. Basically, you put a flame to the fumes, and it explodes. So the engine in the car uses that to turn the wheels and the car moves.”
But where does the flame come from?
“Spark plugs. They — uh, they’re hooked up to the battery, and it sends an electrical charge through the gas… something like that.”
Electric… you mean the Harnessed Thunder?
Reese raised an eyebrow. “What?”
Feanor shifted his weight and half-closed his eyes. In some towns in Eska, they have the power of thunder running through wires, the same power that comes from the skies during a storm. I heard someone call it that… electric… electro…
“Electricity?”
Feanor’s eyes shot open. That’s it! I know you have it in your house here, but you say you have that inside your car?
Reese nodded. “Yeah, it’s stored in a battery.” Seeing more confusion, he continued. “It’s like a large box that stores all that power and lets it out little by little.”
Wow, was all Feanor said, though Reese could distinctly feel the awe in that thought.
Just then Jack barged into the apartment, closed the door roughly, and collapsed on the part of the couch that Feanor wasn’t taking up.
“Rough day?” Reese asked.
Jack narrowed his eyes. “Wonderful day. I saw Dr. Sullivan in the student center; I’ve basically got until Friday to pick a major.”
Reese shrugged. “So pick one. You can always change it later.”
Jack shed his backpack and walked into the kitchen. “I guess. It’s just…” He sighed. “I just really don’t want to be here. Okay, sure, I’ll be a history major; what good is that going to do me?” He scoured the fridge and pulled out the jug of orange juice.
“You’ll be a college grad,” Reese said. “That counts for a lot today.”
“Not as much as it used to,” Jack said with a snort. He poured a glass of juice and turned to Feanor. “How about you; they have college where you’re from?”
There are centers of learning in Eska, Feanor responded. Many go there to learn about the world or develop their skills.
“Yeah, but do they have to go?” Jack said as he put up the orange juice.
Feanor gave a strained glance at Reese before answering, Many choose to go. Some do not.
“Just like college, Jack,” Cary yelled from behind his bedroom door. He opened it up and continued, “People come to college to learn stuff, but not everyone does.”
Jack opened his mouth to retort, but sighed and thought better of it. “I just want to be done,” he said, defeated.
“We all do,” Reese said. “We all do.”
“So what’s your world like, Feanor?” Cary asked, attempting to steer the conversation somewhere more productive.
My world… Feanor said. I don’t know where to begin.
“Is everyone a dragon?” asked Cary.
“No,” Jack said, to everyone’s surprise.
“And how do you know this?” Reese said pointedly.
Jack smirked. “My uncle Kevin always told me stories about this place he had gone to called ‘Ainur En’eska.’ There were dragons, elves, griffins, fairies, you name it. It’s like… like all those fantasy books thrown together.”
“What else did he tell you?” Cary said.
Jack stared off into nowhere. “All sorts of stories. He was especially fond of the griffins; he and I would talk for a long time and he’d always mention that if he were back in Eska he’d be smoking pipes with the griffins while exchanging philosophical banter.”
That’s true, Feanor said. The griffins tend to act more with their words while we dragons tend to act more with our claws. It’s gotten us in trouble a few times, but not serious trouble.
“Are there any humans?” Reese asked.
Not for very long, Feanor said. Sensing confusion, he continued. Most humans that do come to our world either leave or… assimilate into society. He shifted his weight uncomfortably. I’d rather not get into that part.
Jack nodded in agreement. “Kevin never really got into that part either. I even asked him how come he could talk about Eska if there weren’t any humans, and he always skirted the issue. The only time he ever got into it he just said, ‘Don’t drink the water; not unless you’re ready.’ And that’s all he ever said.”
“So why’d you believe him?” Reese said.
Jack smirked. “I didn’t, really. I asked him around four years ago if the stories were real or not, and he looked me in the eye and said they were. Every word of ‘em. Of course, I never really believed that until I saw Feanor here.”
Glad I could help, Feanor said.
“So what’re the elves like, Feanor?” Cary asked.
Feanor seemed to roll his eyes. They tend to be a little aloof, but they can—
He was interrupted by a muffled funky guitar riff. Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ll be right back.” He stepped out the door and answered the phone. “Hello!”
“Hey, Jack.”
“Hi, mom.”
“How are you?”
Jack almost sank back into the foul mood he was in earlier, but caught himself before he did. “Could be better.”
“Really?”
“Yeah — listen, do you have Uncle Kevin’s number around anywhere?”
“Yes… is everything okay?”
“Yeah, there’s just… something here I want to talk with him about.”
“Really? Like what?”
“We’re just… talking about something in the apartment that he knows about, and I wanted his input.”
“Okay…” Jack could sense the uncertainty in his mother’s voice and hoped she wasn’t starting to worry. He got the number from her and said his good-byes with a promise to call back later.
He dialed his uncle’s number but hesitated before pressing the ‘send’ button. He hadn’t talked to his uncle since the conversation he had mentioned back in the apartment, and that hadn’t ended very well. He hoped — and prayed — that he was still willing to speak to him. With a final mutter of “Here goes nothing,” he pressed the send button.
One ring.
Two rings.
Three rings.
Four rings o please don’t go to voicemail I don’t feel like leaving a—
Click. “Hello?”
“Uncle Kevin? It’s Jack.”
“Jack?” A pause. “Jack! How are you?”
“Kevin, I—” He swallowed hard and hoped his pride had gone down with it. “I’m sorry I ever disbelieved you.”
Kevin chuckled. “No need to apologize, boy. I know my stuff’s a little hard to swallow, but thanks. Is that it?”
“No, I—” He couldn’t help but chuckle himself; Kevin had a strong case of contagious laughter. “I’ve got a dragon in my apartment with a broken wing. Any advice?”
“It’s about time!” Kevin nearly yelled. “Did he just land on your doorstep or what?”
“No, we found him on the ground on some back roads after he hit an airplane and fell down.”
“Ouch. Is he okay? Besides the wing, that is.”
“Both wings, actually. And his tail’s a little sore from where we ran over it. And he’s probably going to be suffering from extreme hunger soon, given that we ran out of meat in the fridge this morning. But other than that, he’s good.”
“Hmm… where in the country are you, again?”
“Eh, close to Greenville.”
“Alabama?”
“South Carolina.”
“What? Why on earth would you want to go there?”
“FU,” Jack said, glad he could pull this pun out one more time.
“What?”
“Founder’s University. It’s where I’m going to school.”
Kevin groaned. “I should’ve known. In all likelihood there’s someone at that school that can help, but just to be safe, go ahead and get me your mailing address. I’d come myself, but I’m in Wyoming at the moment.”
“Really? What’s going on there?”
“Eh, doing some work for… I’ll tell you some other time, okay?”
“Sure thing.” Jack passed on his address.
“Okay, I’ll see if I can FedEx those potions to you. And don’t worry about paying me; I owe the dragons a few favors anyway.”
“Thanks, Kevin. Oh, one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“History major?”
Kevin paused. “What’re you going to do with it?”
“Register for classes is about it. I can’t register unless I declare a major.”
“Computer science? You always liked those video game things.”
“No… I took the intro class; Computer Science the major is nothing but programming. It’s like math; I can’t stand the stuff.”
“Well… are there any botany classes?”
“That’s science; why would I do that?”
“So you can grow your own tobacco! You’d save a killing, boy!”
It was Jack’s turn to groan. “I’ll call you when the potions get here, okay, Kevin?”
“Okay. It’s nice to hear from you again, Jack.”
“You too.”
Jack walked back in the apartment. Feanor had apparently answered enough to satisfy Reese and Cary since neither of them were in the room and Feanor had his head curled next to his body, apparently attempting to sleep.
Good news? he asked without opening his eyes.
“The potions are coming; hopefully in the next couple of days.”
That is good, said Feanor.
Sensing that he didn’t wish to keep talking, Jack stepped carefully over Feanor and made his way back to his room. Homework could wait; he needed a nap.
—————————————————
“I’m going to run and get some meat for Mister Carnivore, here,” Reese announced. “Anything else I should get?”
“We’re low on TV dinners,” Cary said. “I think the one-dollar meals are on sale for eighty cents.”
“Such savings,” Reese muttered. “Anything else? Jack?”
Jack thought. “We’re good on milk and cereal, right?”
“I’ll get some,” Reese said. “Stefan?”
“French Vanilla creamer,” Stefan said through his door.
Reese jotted the items down on a scrap of paper. “I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Feanor, don’t burn down the building.”
Don’t worry, Feanor said. I’m too hungry.
Two minutes after Reese left, Stefan walked out his door and knocked loudly on Jack’s door. “Come in,” Jack said.
Stefan closed the door behind him. “How long is this dragon going to be here?” he asked with more than a hint of irritation.
“My uncle is FedEx-ing the potions we need,” Jack said. “Once they arrive it’ll take about 24 hours for his wings to fully heal. So he’ll be gone by Friday, tops.”
“Well the sooner the better. I just cannot work with it around.” He clinched his fists and inhaled sharply. “If it’s not better by Friday I’m kicking it out.”
“He,” Jack corrected.
“What?”
“He’s a he, not an ‘it.’”
Stefan made a disdainful face. “Whatever, just make sure he’s gone by Friday.” He opened the door angrily and left.
Jack sighed. It was times like this he just wanted to kick Stefan out, but he knew that they needed the fourth person. They could barely afford the apartment as it stood.
Jack? Jack heard in his mind.
“Yeah, Feanor?” Jack said at a conversational volume, anticipating what came next.
I… I don’t want to be a problem here.
“You could hear us, couldn’t you.”
Yes.
“Don’t let him get to you. He complains about stuff like this every week.”
You have dragons every week?
“No, I…” Jack chuckled, realizing what he had just said. “No, but he’s always complaining about the neighbors, or the smell of cooking, or how much noise we’re making, or… you know.”
So why does he live with you?
“That’s a good question, Feanor. That’s a good question.”
Cary walked into the room. “You guys talking about Stefan?”
Jack paled. “You could hear us?”
Cary waved his hand dismissively. “Just you, but it was pretty easy to figure out. Luckily for you, though, I think Stefan’s in ‘earplug mode.’”
Jack cocked his head. “How come you couldn’t hear Feanor?”
I don’t have to talk to everyone at once, Feanor said. If I want to, I can only talk to a few people. It comes in handy sometimes.
“Standard rules of telepathy,” Cary added. “Haven’t you read any sci-fi before?”
“Sorry,” Jack said. “I’m still getting used to the whole idea.”
Cary shrugged and, finding the conversation over, went back to his room. Jack sat for a moment, deciding what to do next. Struck by sudden inspiration, he pulled out a box from under his bed and sifted through the contents. Beneath the wind-up toy his mom gave him and the woven rug from Guatemala, he had a book. It was hand-bound with a finely woven piece of twine and wood covers. The book itself was blank, but Cary had never bothered to write anything in it. He never had anything important enough, plus he wanted to find out what the inscription on the cover said.
He grabbed the book and walked into the common room. “Feanor?” he said. “Do you know what this says?”
Feanor rolled his eyes. My eyesight’s not the best, but I’ll try.
Jack held the book for Feanor and muttered, “Does that explain the airplane thing?”
Feanor blew another smoke ring. Very funny. I’m not exactly from around here; how was I supposed to know those things move so fast.
“Sorry,” Jack said.
Anyway, it’s written in Griffon. Even if I could understand it, I’d hardly be able to read it.
“Eyesight?”
Right. Griffons are notorious for their sharp eyesight, so the print is incredibly small.
Jack nodded. He opened his mouth to say more, but decided instead to set the book down and sat down next to Feanor’s head. “Feanor,” he asked softly.
Yes?
“Once your wing’s healed, do you think… maybe… I could go visit?”
And you expect me to give you a ride?
Jack backpedaled like mad. “I mean— I was just wondering— but, you know, if dragons don’t do that, then…” He trailed off after he saw Feanor laughing.
I know I shouldn’t mess with you like that, he said, but it’s just too funny. He calmed down to catch his breath. Sure, he said, I’d be happy to give you a ride. I could probably carry two of you, actually, so if you wanted to bring someone along you could.
Jack nodded and thought for a second. “Did Cary just…”
No, our conversation was private.
“Right.” Jack turned his face toward the hallway. “Cary!”
Even from a distance of ten feet, Jack could still hear the grunts and hops of Cary attempting to navigate the five feet from his desk to his door while avoiding the piles of alternating clean and dirty clothes and maneuvering past the shelves and piles of important papers. A dull thud signaled that Cary had found the door with his shoulder.
He opened the door casually. “Yeah?”
Jack smiled and shook his head. “Wouldn’t it just be easier to clean your room?”
Cary shook his head and said “No” so casually that he apparently didn’t consider the matter worth a second thought.
“Whatever,” Jack muttered. “Anyway, once Feanor’s wings heal, I was going to see about visiting his home world, and… well, do you want to come?”
Cary inhaled sharply and rolled his eyes in thought. “Eh…” he said, “no. I’ve got a group project over the weekend, and I really can’t miss it. But I expect to hear all about it, okay?”
Jack nodded. “I’ll tell you. Do you think Reese would…?”
“Most likely,” Cary said. “Sorry, but I gotta get back to work, ‘kay?” And with that, he causally closed his door and made his way back across his room.
“That’s Cary for you,” Jack said. “It doesn’t matter what it is; he never leaves any of his friends hanging.”
Reese picked that moment to return. Having his hands full, he unceremoniously kicked the door a few times in place of knocking. “Hands are full!” he yelled through the door.
Jack pulled himself up and opened the door. Reese, carrying at least two bags in each hand, ran over to the table and dropped the bags as gently as he could — in other words, not very.
Jack began to sort through the groceries. “Sheesh, how many of these TV dinners did you get?”
Reese shifted his glance sideways. “Um… more than… a few?”
Jack rolled his eyes and started counting. “There’s fifteen here.”
“Um… yeah.”
“Is our freezer going to fit all of them?”
“Um…”
—————————————————
Jack always loved getting the little cards in his mailbox that signified a package. Heck, he was usually happy to get any mail. One of the things he didn’t like about the whole ‘internet age’ thing was the lack of physical communication. To this date he had probably logged fewer hours on AOL Instant Messenger in his life than a thirteen-year-old girl did in a month. The package itself had “Fragile!” and “Heavy!” and “Liquid Enclosed” stickers all over it. In the post office’s eyes, it was a miracle that FedEx even delivered such a package.
Not wanting to attract attention, Jack waited until he was back at the apartment before opening the package. He did, however, read the attached packing list. It listed two twenty-ounce bottles of “healing potion” and a handwritten note at the bottom, presumably from Kevin.
“Given the injuries,” it said, “your ‘pet’ will probably need to ingest all of this. This is made with Eska water: DO NOT DRINK THE WATER until you’re ready, and at this point I doubt you are.” In a much smaller script, it continued at the bottom. “These statements have not been evaluated by the FDA and this product is not intended to diagnose, prevent, or cure any disease. Have a nice day.”
Jack groaned audibly.
Back at the apartment, Jack gingerly opened the box. The contents were ordinary soda bottles reinforced with duct tape and padded with old ripped up copies of The New York Times. The bottles themselves were unmarked, and it was impossible to see the liquid inside because of the duct tape.
Jack held one up and showed it to Feanor. “How do you want this, in a bowl, out of the bottle, what?”
In the bottle, Feanor said simply. My wings started regaining feeling six hours ago and it’s not exactly soothing.
Jack winced, unscrewed the cap on the first bottle, and handed it to Feanor. “Bottoms up!”
Feanor took the bottle in a claw, raised his head back as much as the low ceiling would allow, and started pouring the bottle down his throat. Is there any more after this? he asked.
“Yeah, one more bottle.”
“No! You promised me one drink, Feanor!” Reese yelled through his door. He walked into the common room with a stern look on his face and said, “Do not make me play designated driver for you again.”
Feanor finished off the first bottle. Just one more, he said, licking his chops hungrily and reaching his claws towards Jack.
Reese lightly slapped Feanor’s claw. “No soup for you!”
But I’m hungry! Feanor whined.
Jack looked from Feanor to Reese and back again. “Guys,” he said softly, “you’re scaring me.”
“Sorry,” Reese said as he and Feanor both hung their heads.
Jack opened up the second bottle. “He’s coming with us, isn’t he?” he said, motioning at Reese.
Feanor took the bottle. Of course, he said as he started guzzling the second potion. Which reminds me, when did you want to leave?
“How long is it going to take for the potions to work?”
At least 24 hours, Feanor said as he finished off the potion. Crushing the bottle with his claw, he let out a deafening roar that shook the windows and knocked over the pile of DVDs by the television.
“A little warning, next time?” Jack yelled, his hands over his ears.
Sorry, Feanor said sheepishly. I guess the potions worked a little faster than I thought.
“I wish Red Bull worked that well,” Reese said.
The door at the end of the hall opened loudly, and a solemn-faced Stefan walked out.
Jack swore under his breath. “Now we’re gonna get it,” he muttered. Reese nodded in grim approval.
Stefan stopped at the entrance to the common room. He looked calmly at Feanor, then turned to Jack. “And what was that?” he asked.
“Sorry, Stefan; he surprised us as much as he—”
“Answer the question.”
Jack did his best to remain calm and not rise to the level of Stefan’s unspoken anger. “That’s the sound of the potions working.”
“So he can leave now, then?”
“No, they take time to work.”
“How long?”
“36 hours.”
Stefan stared at Jack in cold anger. “If that dragon is here when I wake up on Friday, there’ll be Hell to pay.”
Jack simply met Stefan’s stare, but Reese, after two awkward seconds of attempting to suppress it, burst into laughter.
That was it for Stefan. “What’s so funny?”
Reese forced himself to calm down. “Stefan,” he said, “you’re threatening a dragon. Do you honestly expect him to listen to you, even if there was anything he could do about it?”
Stefan threw up his hands. “Okay, so now I can’t do anything in my own apartment! Never mind that I’m paying for this—”
“We’re all paying for this,” Jack said.
“Right, but I’m not paying for an overgrown lizard that…” He trailed off as he looked up at Feanor, his eyes growing wide with fear. Feanor had lifted his head up to the ceiling and was looking down at Stefan with a stern, but not necessarily angry, glare.
Finally, Stefan caught himself, straightened his pose, and said, “Just see that you do.” And with that, he walked back — a little quickly, Jack thought — to his room and shut the door.
Reese looked up at Feanor in awe. “What’d you say to him?”
Feanor relaxed his glare and let down his head. The first rule of combat, he said, is to pick your battles wisely. While I appreciate your assessment of our relative strengths, it only served to bolster the image he had of me as an intruder. I merely thanked him for his hospitality and assured him I would be out by the time he specified.
Reese shrugged. “So we’re leaving Friday morning, then?”
Jack took a deep breath. “Bright and early. Man, I’m gonna hate tomorrow.”
—————————————————
Fortunately, this particular Thursday passed without incident. Stefan was content to suffer quietly in his room for the day, and Cary was making plans with his other friends, not wanting to spend the weekend with no one in the apartment besides him and Stefan. Feanor slept off the effects of the potion, and Jack and Reese made their plans for tomorrow.
“You know,” Jack said, “I haven’t skipped a class yet.”
“Woah,” Reese said. “This term?”
Jack shook his head and grinned. “Since I got to Founder’s.”
“No way!” Reese nearly yelled. “So tomorrow’s the first…?”
Jack nodded. “The first classes I’ve deliberately skipped. I think it’s worth it, though, right?”
“Heck yes!” Reese said. “So, we leave tomorrow and come back Sunday; that leaves two nights to pack for. Three, just to be safe.”
“Do we know what the weather’s going to be like?”
“Cool. Plus we’re going to be traveling fast and at a high altitude, so dress appropriately.”
“Mafia Coat?”
Reese’s eyes lit up. “That’s perfect! Man, I wish I had one…”
“Well, I would loan you mine, but—”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Toothbrush would probably be smart… anything else?”
“Nalgene bottles.”
Reese cocked his head. “Why?”
Jack bit his lip. “My uncle always said not to drink the water in Eska.”
“Did he say why?”
Jack shook his head. “No, he never got into it. He just said, ‘don’t drink the water until you’re ready, and you’re not.’ So… I’m gonna pack my Nalgene.”
Reese pondered the matter for a few moments and shrugged. “Fine, guess I’ll bring one. At least for the trip. Anything else?”
Jack thought back to his blank book and made a mental note to bring it along. “Nope, that’s it.”
—————————————————
If eight-o’clock wasn’t difficult enough, five in the morning was punishable under the Eighth Amendment to the Constitution of the United States of America. Fortunately, Jack’s alarm clock survived the ordeal once again. Jack decided to forgo the shower, opting to apply his deodorant and be done with it. On top of his blue jeans, t-shirt, and thermal overshirt, he wore the Mafia Coat. This was a camel-hair overcoat Jack got from his godfather who happened to be from Italy. While his godfather had expressly denied anything of the sort, Jack would often joke that the hole in the lining was so he — or the previous owners — could hide a shotgun. Regardless of its origins or prior uses, the coat was the warmest article of clothing Jack possessed, and apparently he was going to need every inch of it.
Getting Feanor out of the apartment proved to be much easier since his wings were healed and therefore much more maneuverable. He guided Jack and Reese through the process of using the comforters from their beds as a makeshift saddle and made sure both of them and their baggage were tied securely to him.
“So how exactly are we getting to Ainur En’eska?” Jack asked as he tightened one of the ropes.
There are nine portals from your world to Eska, Feanor explained. There’s a symbolic meaning I won’t get into now; suffice it to say the closest one I can get to is in Canada.
Jack froze. “Canada? We’re flying all the way to Canada?”
It’s only just over a thousand miles as the dragon flies, Feanor said calmly. We’ll be at the portal by lunch if we get moving.
“Then let’s get going!” Reese said, hopping onto Feanor’s back.
Jack sighed and finished checking the ropes. The whole idea had sounded wonderful last night, but now that he was face-to-face with the prospect of riding a dragon for upwards of a thousand miles into Canada at a high altitude to visit a parallel universe where, for all he knew, he could be facing down vampires and running for his life.
His runaway thought train was interrupted by Reese’s hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” he said, “you okay?”
Jack looked Reese in the eye. He could trust him… he could trust Feanor… why was he so afraid?
“Yeah,” he said with a grin, “let’s go!”
Very well, then, Feanor said. With a jet of flame he began to beat his wings heavily, the air rushing around Reese and Jack and the pre-dawn lit up in the dragon’s firelight…
With a satisfied burp, Feanor folded in his wings and walked calmly out to the street. What, he said, you didn’t think I’d take off in the middle of a parking lot, now did you? With a toothy grin he checked the street for traffic and finding none (it was five in the morning), he walked out into the middle of the road and spread his wings wide.
Hang on.
With a sudden burst of speed he ran down the straight road, his wings pumping steadily but not furiously until they finally caught the wind and with a kick from his hind legs they launched high into the air. A few decided thrusts later and they were cruising comfortably ten feet above the treetops.
Reese leaned down next to Feanor’s ear. “You know we can’t breathe past five thousand feet, right?” he asked.
I know, Feanor said. I’m going to stay low right now; the thicker air can give me a little more thrust. Once we get up to speed we’ll get a little higher so we won’t attract attention if anyone happens to see us. In the meantime, though, you two may want to lean a little lower.
Despite riding behind Reese, Jack was feeling the full force of the wind and wishing he had thought to bring a ski mask, though a second thought made him question whether that would help at this speed. He was enjoying the scenery, though. Even at this early hour, the light patterns from the airport and surrounding sprawl were actually quite beautiful. It was times like this he wished he had a camera, but again his better sense kicked in and reminded him how hard it would be to hold a camera at this point.
“Urban sprawl never looked so good, eh, Jack?” Reese said.
“Yeah,” Jack said. “Wait— ‘eh’? We’re not in Canada yet, Reese!”
Reese grinned. “Watch it, or I’ll sic the mounties on you!”
The trip continued mostly in silence with Reese and Jack occasionally breaking in to marvel at some scenery or comment on some aspect of life. Given the speed they were going and the turbulent movements of their mount, sleep was practically impossible.
After an hour, Jack noticed a pattern on the ground. “Hey, Feanor?”
Yes?
“Are we following I-95?”
Yes we are, Feanor said. This is the first time I flew more than a couple hundred miles out of the portal, and it’s the easiest way for me to make sure that I’m going the right way.
“Won’t it make us take longer?” Reese asked.
For now, yes. Once the sun rises the air will warm up a little more and I can go higher. Feanor grinned. If you think it’s cold now, wait until I raise altitude.
Reese checked his watch. “It’s 5:30 now,” he said to Jack, “so sunrise should be in about half an hour.”
Jack shook his head. “It’s late October, and we’re still in daylight savings time. Sunrise isn’t going to be for another hour at the earliest.”
“That was when we were in the mountains,” Reese countered. “We’re flying high. You can see the freaking ocean from here.”
Jack looked east. “No, you can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, you can’t.”
“Yes, you can!”
“No, you can’t!”
“Yes, you— look, this isn’t an argument.”
Jack and Reese both grinned. Reese looked east again and conceded, “Yeah, those are probably just clouds.” He looked down. “That’s I-95? Yeah, we’re definitely too far from the coast.”
“At least until we get to Virginia,” Jack added. “95 does go straight through D.C.”
“You ever been to D.C?” Reese asked.
“Nope,” Jack said, and the conversation continued on.
Jack and Reese managed to keep themselves interested for another hour with Feanor breaking in every so often. Eventually, they noticed the warm glow in the eastern sky.
Here it comes, Feanor said. Watch closely; it’s going to be faster than you think. With a push he began to climb higher into the sky.
“I’ve never seen an actual sunset,” Jack said. “You?”
Reese shook his head. “Heard, but never seen.”
The two watched as the first hint of the large, orange globe peeked over the horizon. Quickly it rose, drenching themselves and the world around them in its warm light.
“Look at that!” Reese yelled suddenly, pointing to the ground about halfway between them and the horizon. It was difficult to see everything through the trees and sprawling urban landscape, but the Washington Monument was clearly visible, casting a long shadow over the surrounding areas. Reese just stared in awe, trying to take in all the different monuments and white buildings he could see, especially the capitol dome dominating the skyline.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Jack said.
Reese’s awe-filled grin slowly faded. “That’s my tax dollars at work? That sucks.”
Jack groaned. “You’re not serious, are you?”
Reese shook his head. “No; seriously, I think it’s beautiful. But, to be perfectly honest, I’d prefer something a little more practical.”
“Like what?”
“How about a bathroom?”
You need to pee? Feanor asked.
“Heck yes.”
Landing at this point was a little more difficult than they had counted on. The area was densely populated and Feanor was hard pressed to find a rural area large enough for him to make a full descent, land, and let his passengers (and himself) relieve themselves without being noticed. Fortunately, Reese had given ample warning and they were able to continue for ten minutes before they found an adequate landing strip. They ran into a little trouble getting themselves untied and tied again, but finally they were off again.
We need to stay high, Feanor explained as he thrust his wings harder, pulling himself higher. If we can get about three thousand feet up, people on the ground will think we’re just a bird.
“A bird going at two hundred miles an hour?” Jack said.
Feanor grinned. If they can tell that, then we’re roasted.
“Roasted, toasted, and screwed!” Reese added.
Let’s hope not, Feanor finished. Hang on, I think I found some good wind.
Feanor banked right and swooped upwards at the same time. When he leveled out, the difference was immediately noticeable. Feanor beat his wings much less furiously and the wind wasn’t as strong in Jack and Reese’s faces, though it was still strong enough to be bitingly cold.
On the ground, the megalopolis stretching from Washington, D.C. all the way to Boston started to pick up. They couldn’t see details, but Jack and Reese could see the cities start to wake up with cars moving, trains rumbling, and airports beginning their morning flights.
“We’re not in any flight paths, are we?” Jack asked.
“We’re not at cruising altitude,” Reese said. “Planes fly at least ten times higher than us.”
“Yeah, but they do take off and land.”
Point taken, Feanor said a little wearily. I’m avoiding the cities anyway. I think the bigger concern here is not being seen.
“I’d rather be seen than get hit,” Jack muttered.
Reese, however, had a better idea. “There are two college kids and a dragon flying over New York,” he said in a fake British accent. “None of them can be seen.”
Jack sighed again. “You’ve been going through the Monty Python videos again, haven’t you.”
Who’s Monty Python? Feanor asked.
“You’d love them!” Reese said. “They’re an old comedy group from Britain.” And he proceeded to recite several lines from one of the movies, but, failing to do them any justice at all, added, “You just have to see it.”
Apparently, Feanor mused.
After some amount of time — Jack had long since given up checking his watch — the urban sprawl began to thin out as they began to pass into the northern end of New England.
“We’re near Vermont, right?” Jack said, looking off to the left.
“Ben and Jerry’s?” Reese asked.
Jack shrugged. “Maybe. I just remember a nice summer vacation in those mountains.”
I recognize this area, Feanor said. We should be at the portal in about an hour.
Jack was finding it increasingly difficult to hang on to the ropes and keep himself warm at the same time. His legs were sufficiently warm, given that he was straddling a large furnace, but his upper body, unhappy after an entire morning of flying, was screaming for extra insulation. Jack tried to hug his chest, but that meant letting go of the ropes and, while he certainly wouldn’t fall off, that much he was sure of, he couldn’t live without the extra security. “Are we there yet?” he asked.
“Chill, man,” Reese said. “He just said ‘an hour.’”
“I’m a little too chill right now,” Jack said.
Reese chuckled. “Me too.”
After what seemed like an eternity — a toxic combination of extreme cold and glorious anticipation drawing it out — they arrived. Feanor touched down in a seemingly uninhabited place. Welcome to Canada, he said.
“Do we need to get off?” Reese asked.
No, Feanor said. I’m going to be flying through the portal, and it’ll be easier if you’re still on board when I go through. He started walking towards a small group of trees. Duck, he said, the branches here are kinda low.
They went through the small grove quickly to find a circular clearing about one hundred feet in diameter. In the very center was a shimmering pool that seemed to hover over the grass, similar to the heat mirages on distant roads during the summer. The closer Jack looked at it, the more it seemed to grow transparent.
“That’s the portal?” Jack asked.
Hang on tight, Feanor said.
Jack felt his pulse quicken, and he instinctively gripped the ropes harder and started breathing heavier.
“You okay?” Reese said, glancing back at him.
Jack took a deep breath and let it out slowly. With a nod, he said, “Let’s do this.”
Without warning Feanor jumped up, beat his wings to get into position, and dived nose-first into the portal.