~By the Lion's Mane: The Call~

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Although I hate to admit it and I don’t know what it says about my character, I actually liked Eustace as a dragon. He couldn’t whine and complain and he was much more useful to us than he was as a boy. He brought us wild goats and swine to eat and store for when we continued our journey. He uprooted a pine for our new mast, and let me and the others ride upon his hot, scaly back over the islands.

It wasn’t like anything I had ever done before, flying. I felt free and powerful, on top of the world, up in the clouds. This was the territory where none had gone before, unexplored, and never would go again.

And then, when the air got too thin and cold, Eustace would fold his leathery wings and plummet back towards the island, me clinging to his scales as my stomach came up my throat. For a moment I thought we would hit the ground and be immediately crushed by the impact. But at the last moment, he would spread his wings open, catching himself on the warm up-currents as we barely brushed the treetops before lighting on the beach again.

While he was useful, we were unsure of what to do when we sailed again. We couldn’t stay there on the lonely island forever, but the enchantment hadn’t worn off, or even shown signs of beginning to. Sometimes at night, when he was off curled up by himself, I would sit with Caspian, Edmund, Lucy, and Drinian to discuss it in hushed voices.

“Do you think he could keep up by flying with us?” I asked.

Caspian answered a few moments later. “Maybe for a little while, but he would need to land to eat, drink, and rest. And we don’t know what lies beyond.”

Silence wrapped around us as we pondered.

“What if we put him along one side of the deck? Would he fit?” Edmund asked.

“We’d have to move all our supplies to one side of the ship to balance it, and even then it would be difficult,” Drinian answered.

“What if we could tow him?” Lucy suggested half-heartedly.

But there was still the matter of feeding him. He liked his food raw, and I had seen him slink off into the woods by himself to tear at the carcass of a goat he had killed. He was ashamed of it, and it appeared as if I was one of the only ones who could stomach the sight of it. The others were greatly disturbed, but it made sense to me. It was natural for a dragon to like his meat raw, and the carnage didn’t sicken me or disgust me as it did the others.

About a week passed. But one morning, I felt Edmund stir beside me. He unwrapped his arms from around me and slid out of his bedroll beside mine, quietly drawing his sword.

I woke completely, sitting up to see what was wrong. He put his finger to his lips and nodded towards the woods. I heard the snapping of twigs and saw what looked like a person through the dusky light between the trees.

I also drew my sword, following Edmund to the edge of the woods. I stood, my back against the tree trunks, waiting for the person to draw closer. Edmund slowly inched closer before stepping into the path of the stranger and opening his mouth to challenge them, his sword raised.

But then a familiar voice said hoarsely, “Edmund? Is that you?”

I knitted my eyebrows together and stepped out from behind the tree.

There was Eustace, standing in his human form in front of us, in new clothes, very plain and simple. He looked older somehow.

“Eustace? Is it you?” Edmund asked, lowering his sword.

The boy nodded, swallowing hard. Then he kind of lurched forward, nearly falling before I stepped forward and caught him.

He was quiet for a moment and then he spoke again, still hoarsely, “Can we go and talk somewhere?” Edmund glanced back to see that the others were still asleep, and nodded. We helped him over to the big rocks on the edge of the bay.