The Dragon's Charm

Chapter 7

Sandra's stomach lurched as Cathal banked sharply, angling his massive form toward a bustling village nestled in the valley below. Her fingers tightened in his scales, though she needn't have worried – his movements, while dramatic, were perfectly controlled. The borrowed blue dress fluttered around her legs, the thick wool cloak keeping the worst of the wind at bay.

"Look there," Cathal's voice rumbled in her mind, a trick that still startled her despite his explanations about dragon-speech. "The gathering in the square. It seems we won't be making a quiet entrance after all."

Indeed, as they spiraled lower, Sandra could see people streaming toward the village center, pointing skyward and calling to others. Children broke away from their parents, racing to keep pace with Cathal's shadow as it swept across the cobblestone streets. The square itself was already half-full, a sea of faces turned expectantly toward the sky.

They landed with surprising delicacy in the village square, Cathal's massive claws finding purchase on top of the worn cobble. He lowered his head, allowing her to slide carefully from his neck onto solid ground. Her legs wobbled slightly – whether from the flight or nerves, she couldn't say.

The transformation was quicker this time, or perhaps she was simply getting used to it. Light enveloped Cathal's dragon form, and moments later he stood beside her in his human shape, one steadying hand at her elbow. He'd dressed formally for the occasion in a deep green tunic that complemented his auburn eyes, though Sandra suspected the color choice had more to do with matching his scales than fashion.

"Well," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear, "shall we face the curious masses?"

Before Sandra could respond, the crowd surged forward. A young boy of about twelve darted through the adults, his eyes bright with excitement. "I knew it!" he exclaimed. "I knew I heard you talking to my mother about having dresses made!" He turned to the gathering crowd. "See? I told you Cathal was bringing someone!"

"Gen!" A woman's sharp voice cut through the murmurs. The crowd parted to reveal a pretty seamstress who couldn't have been much past thirty-five. "What have I told you about eavesdropping?" She turned to Sandra with an apologetic smile. "I'm Lily, and this is my rather impetuous son. Please forgive him – he's been racing around town all morning telling tales."

Sandra felt her cheeks warm as dozens of curious eyes seemed to burn through her. The villagers were dressed similarly to Cathal, in clothing that reminded her of Renaissance fair costumes, though far more practical and well-worn. Their expressions ranged from openly curious to barely concealed excitement.

"I'm Sandra," she managed, fighting the urge to hide behind Cathal. "It's nice to meet you."

"Is it true you're going to stay at the den?" Gen asked eagerly, earning another sharp look from his mother.

"Gen, enough," Lily scolded. "You've caused quite enough excitement for one day." She turned back to Sandra with a warm smile. "Now then, shall we see about getting your measurements? Cathal mentioned you'd need several dresses."

Questions flew from the gathered crowd:
"Where did you come from?"
"How did you meet our dragon lord?"
"Will you be staying long?"
"That's such a lovely charm you're wearing, did Cathal give it to you?!"

"Perhaps," Cathal's voice cut smoothly through the chatter, "we might let Sandra catch her breath before the interrogation begins? But first we have business with Lily."

"Of course, of course!" Lily shooed away the crowd with practiced efficiency. "The rest of you can satisfy your curiosity later. Come along, dear," she added to Sandra, taking her arm. "Let's get you properly outfitted. Cathal explained that you have nothing to wear for mountain living."