November 14

Word Count: 1,688

As the dark began to hint at settling in around them, Iber began to worry. Although he thought it odd to be following a glowing ball, he didn't argue when they agreed to use it to guide their direction. The first time Mitty had brought it out, Iber had been fascinated. It seemed to have no power source or seams at all. The glow increased with every step taken in the right direction. Both Mitty and Malek admitted that they really had no idea where it was leading them and both were rather silent on where they got it. Perhaps it led to a treasure. Wherever it led, a detour to his final destination wouldn't matter much at all. The estate had no idea he was coming, and his father wouldn't know of an absence unless he sent a messenger which he was highly unlikely to do until he cooled off.

Iber was amazed at the power of the little ball to light up the quickly darkening forest. He was impressed until he realized that every time she lifted the ball out of the pouch, they became a glowing illuminated target.

Those dragons were still out there somewhere, and tonight was going to be an especially dangerous time. They all needed rest, that much was clear, but a fire was probably out of the question. Their last escape from the dragons was quite accidental. A night time attack could very well prove fatal.

"Are you getting rather tired?" Mitty asked Saratin hopefully.

"Yes, actually I am. How much farther do you think we have to go?"

"I truly don't have any idea, but it's getting quite bright," Mitty said pulling the globe from the pouch.

"I'm not sure you should do that so often now that it's dark," Iber said as he guided her hand back into the pouch. "There are some rather nasty things in the forest that I'd rather not announce our presence to."

"Oh, right."

"I'll take Mitty and camp if you two want to move on," Malek volunteered. The silent one was getting on Iber's nerves. He did nothing but glare at the two of them as if they were in his mansion eyeing his silver. Malek kept a close eye on the girl at all times. She wasn't a lady, and she wasn't all that pretty either. Iber didn't quite understand where Malek's malice was coming from, but it made him want to keep a tighter hold on Mitty just out of spite.

"Oh, I think there is quite a bit more safety in numbers," Saratin added.

Without warning, a flash of green and brown plowed through the darkness and disappeared in the shadows of the trees. The scrambling was punctuated with growling and yowling. A jet of fire lit the scene like a lightning strike, bright like day for a moment before the pair was cloaked again in night.

"Pylon!" Mitty shouted as she struggled against Iber. The skittish horse smelled the ashy stench of the dragon and remembered. Iber fought to control the horse and Mitty at the same time. She managed to pull her leg over the side of the horse and drop gracelessly to the ground.

"Mitty, wait!" Iber called as he dismounted and unsheathed his sword and followed her into the darkness. Without turning, he shouted "Saratin! Run!" before heading off. Iber knew it was a fairly useless gesture. The brother would never run unless they all did.

Daylight appeared to break out in the forest as Mitty held the globe high above her head, making herself a perfect target of interest. The dragon, which Pylon had successfully run up a tree, stared at the blinding light with intense attention. Iber stumbled on a root as he ran forward towards her, and put his hands up to soften his fall. His knuckles scrapped in the dirt as he held tight to his sword. Before he could look up, he felt a weight on his back. A set of sharp claws dug through the cassock and Iber tried to roll the creature off of him.

Mitty's scream seemed so very far away as the claws clung to him, working their way through the fabric to his skin below. On his second try to roll over, he saw Mitty running towards him. He wanted to cry out for her to stop, but his breath had left him. He felt the heat of the flames shoot over his head and head straight for Mitty. Her scream haunted him for a moment before the dragon on his back turned sharply in the other direction. It leapt off him and headed towards new prey. Iber wasted no time in crawling towards Mitty, who lay smoldering a few yards away.

"It's dead! You got it!" yelled Saratin in the background. "The other one's running! Pylon's after it."

"Mitty?" Iber whispered.

"Am I still alive?" she asked.

"You are if I am… and I think I am," Iber replied.

"I hope so," she stated.

Mitty sat up. "I think my dress is ruined." Ruined was an understatement. The dragon fire had caught her directly at knee level. The entire front panel of the dress had been reduced to ashes. The flames had charred the rest of her skirt. Indeed, you could see her petticoat most all the way around.

"I'm surprised it didn't fry your petticoat," Iber said as he stared at her flat gray slip. A look of panicky surprise crossed her face as she scrambled to her feet. She lifted the remains of her skirt and stared intently at the material below. Iber saw now that it wasn't a petticoat at all. It was length of material that had been pinned around her waist.

"That my dear Iber, I believe is dragon cloth," Saratin said as he approached them.

"You have dragon cloth? And you were wearing it? How did you know?" Iber asked.

"Well," Mitty stammered. "It was all an accident really. I forgot it was there. I didn't even know it was dragon proof cloth. I didn't even know there were dragons still alive until today."

"I don't think there were. I think they're new. Like your cat there." Pylon had returned and was absently licking his paws. "I think there are a lot of new things in the forest, or should I say a lot of new old things."

He turned to stare at Malek, who was examining the dead dragon. It had two arrow shafts sticking out of it. Malek held his dagger ready, as if he expected the supposedly mythic creature to at any time, jump up and start breathing fire again.

"So what do we do now?" Mitty asked quietly.

"The same thing we have been doing. We follow the little glowing ball, find out what the hell is going on and then get the hell out of the forest."

For once Iber agreed with Malek. The sooner they found out what was going on, the better. There was still at least one other live dragon out there.

It was the irregular nature of the trees that caught Lasser's attention. At first he thought they'd stumbled into another Dryad circle, but then he remembered even the dryad's mother trees weren't planted in such a symmetrical circle. Lasser had been all through this forest and had never seen these trees before, yet they were tall strong pines that towered almost endlessly to the sky. Their trunks were monstrous at the base. The eight trees were probably the oldest in the forest, which puzzled Lasser. Nothing grew in the center of the ring of trees. All around the edges the younger, smaller trees seemed dwarved by the ancient trees, but not one of those small trees had invaded the circle.

Lasser was so busy staring at the trees, that he almost missed the man standing in the center of the circle. He had been waiting for them.

"Good evening, ancient ones," he said holding out his hands in welcome. His smile belied his sunken features. This is a man who has known much hunger, Lasser thought as the horses stopped in front of him. His face had deep hollows and his simple robes hung from him, as if they were tailored for a much larger man. His skin was slightly yellow and his beard was thin and gray.

"We're not exactly ancients, sir," the princess said. She dismounted and Lasser followed suit.

"Perhaps. Perhaps. But you're early. We're almost ready. Four is half."

"Half of what?" the lady's maid asked.

"Half of eight, of course. We shall be on our way in no time. I've heard you've met Snult already. Soon, soon."

The lady's maid pulled Lasser aside. "I think he's nuts," she whispered in his ear. Lasser was beginning to agree with her… but after the dryads, he was inclined to believe there was some huge secret wandering around in the forest that they'd yet to be let in on.

"Who are you?" Lasser asked.

"I'm the eighth one. And you're, well I don't know who you are any more. The numbers don't really matter anyway."

"My name is Lasser." He stated.

"Of course it is. And yes, I know Trevelyn and Lynah too, but I don't know who they are either. It's all mixed up." The old man peered up into the sky. "He was always a slow riser. Getting him up was the biggest problem. Not like you can go in there and throw a bucket of cold water on him. No, not."

"What's he talking about?" the princess asked Lasser. He didn't have a clue. The man seemed reasonable enough, but his words made no sense.

A sudden stillness came over the forest. The birds stopped calling and even the wind seemed to hold it's breath for a slight moment. The swoosh of wings broke the silence and a shadow descended from the sky. The three travelers looked up in unison. Descending upon them, lowering itself into the clearing was a great silver dragon.

"It's about time you got here," the old man shouted crankily.