To Marry a Dragon

5. The Acorn that Fell Far Away from the Tree

The race was on, but Elvira's horse froze to the spot and whinnied, tweaking its ears, even though the dragon had become no bigger than a raven in the cloudless sky.

Ferrante! Elvira thought in exasperation. Sure, when he was a human and a paladin, Ferrante's skills were obvious. He could bring forth a ray of cleansing light to blast the undead or heal a wound on a comrade-in-arms. But she didn't know what he was capable of as a dragon. So she slipped out of the saddle to see what trick he had pulled on her.

The green web tethered her horse's legs. It looked like...

Elvira squatted to see exactly what it looked like and extended her hand to touch the soft threads. The smell left on her fingers was that of the spring grass. The green stuff was the fresh grass, only stretched out by magic to a full midsummer height and tangled beyond hope. Nature magic, pure in its simplicity.

She sighed and lifted her head only to bump the forehead of another woman. The new arrival was bent at her willowy waist to examine whatever Elvira was investigating. 

"Ouch. Sorry!" Elvira said.

"I am fine," the woman replied. Her soft golden-brown eyes that could melt a stone—and sometimes did, according to the stories—sparkled with curiosity. Emerald hair swayed on either side of the perfectly oval face, also green, but paler.

Yes, yes, lucky me! Lukrezia nested in the sacred oak. Ferrante scarred its roots with his claws and had blown hundreds of leaves from its boughs... but they left Elvira behind to deal with the dryads. Lucky, lucky, lucky...

"We need to talk," the dryad said, covering its delicate mouth with a fragile hand to stifle a yawn. "We believe you hurt us... earlier, I mean, not just now."

Elvira had heard tales of the tricksters, mainly bards, who lulled the dryads to sleep and stole their acorns, then pressed the dryads into servitude. Naturally, she found enslaving her accuser abhorrent, but the hooded green lids made it tempting to wait it out and tiptoe away once the dryad nodded off.

Alas, that meant abandoning the horse to the grass trap, and she had to gallop to Antikapey before Ferrante made an enemy out of a powerful gnomish city or did Light-knows-what equally hot-headed.

"I don't deny the charges!" Elvira pitched her voice as loud as she could while staying polite.

The dryad startled, then batted her eyelashes. "What charges?"

Great, the infamous short attention span...

The honor dictated for Elvira to act as the accused, the judge and the jury all rolled in one. Also, the network of roots, grasses and mushrooms had a long reach, so it could snitch on her to the Order. But, mainly, it was her integrity on the line.

"Damaging the sacred oak. Bark, leaves and roots." Elvira thought for a moment and added hopefully, "Offset by exterminating a wide range of pests and weeds through applying the dragon breath to the area."

The dryad perked up. "That was the dragon's doing? We saw this magnificent, horrifying, gigantic, brilliant dragon. He was amazing and he did a service for us. We are grateful to him."

"Then... can I go?" Elvira asked tentatively. Maybe all she had to do was listen about the marauding and magnificent dragon and get over prickles of jealousy. Ferrante always made an impression on women, but she had no idea it could develop into a universal following because of his curse. "I need to get somewhere as soon as possible."

Her hopes didn't have time to solidify before the dryad shattered them with a curt "No."

The sun was past zenith, and Antikapey was a long way away, by land and sea. Light-giving light, grant me patience, she prayed and said, "What do the dryads accuse me of?"