The Rite of the Dragon

Malena sat on the three-legged stool and shivered in her thin, white shift.  Even the small fire her father had built up could not keep away the shivers of apprehension which ran through her body.

"It is tradition, Malena," her mother said, handing her a bowl of stew.  "I did it myself when I was your age.  There is nothing to fear.  Isn't that right, Father?"

Malena's father looked up from his manuscript.

"What?  Hmm?  Yes, of course, my dear.  Merely symbolic."

"There, you see?"  Malena's mother reached out and patted her shoulder.

As Malena looked down into the bowl on her lap, her nervous stomach rebelled.  She set the bowl aside, hoping her mother would not notice.  She glanced up to see her mother watching her with a small frown of disapproval. 

"But, are not The Twenty-one supposed to be of royal, or at least noble, blood?" Malena objected.

"Well," the older woman chuckled, "it is well nigh impossible to find twenty-one virtuous maidens among the nobility these days."

"And no easier in the village," her father said with a laugh. 

"And now it's raining," Malena wailed as raindrops began to hit the casement windows. 

"Hush, child," the mother scolded.  "'Tis a great honor to have been chosen.  As soon as it's all done, you'll be home and in your own warm bed again."  She leaned over and kissed the top of her daughter's head.

Malena took small comfort in her mother's reassurances.  It was the summer solstice and ought to have been warm and pleasant enough for an outdoor procession and festival.  This year, though, summer had never truly seemed to arrive, and this night was like every other night so far in the season: damp, chill, and otherwise wretched.  If anything was awaiting her this night, it was hours of wet misery. 

Another shiver of apprehension slipped down her spine at the thought that the rain and cold might be the least of her worries this night.  In the damp, chill dark, anything seemed possible.

The Rite of the Dragon had never before seemed sinister.  Malena and her friends had always looked forward to the night of feasting and celebration.  But then, they had never been included in The Twenty-one before.   

"If I had known this would happen, I would have taken care to lose my virtue before now!"  Malena declared in reckless passion, hoping to shock her parents.  She was chagrined when they merely laughed and told her not to be silly. 

A heavy fist pounded against the door.

"Open up in the Queen's name."

Malena's father clattered to his feet, dropping his pipe in the process, and crossed to the door.  He paused with his hand on the doorknob and turned to look at Malena, who sat by the hearth, looking like a condemned prisoner about to be led to the gallows. 

"Merely symbolic.  Over soon," he whispered.  He winked at his daughter, and opened the door. 

Standing in the slow drip of the mid-summer shower stood three of the Queen's retainers, looking as imperious and self-important as they could in wet livery. 

The tallest man stepped forward and intoned, "By order of the Queen, we have come to take your daughter for the Rite of the Dragon."   

"Malena, come here, child," her father beckoned quietly.

Malena gathered the shreds of her dignity, for they were the only warmth she was to be allowed, and stepped into the night.

         Choose from among you twenty-one virtuous maidens, none younger than sixteen and none older than eighteen.  Let them be dressed in white, with hair unbound, each carrying a purse of twenty-one gold pieces, and led to the Dragon Pit.  Let the reigning Queen of the Land cast lots to choose one maiden and let that maiden be tied to the Dragon Stake.  At the stroke of midnight, extinguish all lights, and let no one see when the Great Dragon comes to claim his sacrifice.

They were truly a sorry lot by the time they reached the Dragon Pit.  Malena hunched her shoulders again in a vain attempt to preserve some of her body's fleeing warmth and glanced around at the other girls.  They now stood in a circle around the central stake, awaiting the Queen's arrival, and all of the girls were as muddy and bedraggled and miserable as Malena herself.  They had each started out in a pristine white shift with freshly washed and unbound hair.  Now they were each liberally splattered with mud and sported a solid band of mud for at least six inches above their hems.
         
This can't be what the Great Dragon had in mind when he started this, she thought.  If I weren't so cold, this might be amusing.  The leather pouch with her allotment of gold coins thumped against her chest, pulling the wet material of her shift tight against her skin.  Another shiver ran through her body.
         
At that moment, the Queen strode into the Dragon Pit.  This queen had ruled the land since before Malena was born, and her family had ruled since time out of mind.  Ruling seemed to come as easily as breathing for the Queen, her wisdom and grace inbred.  Despite her years and increasing frailty, the queen still held herself erect, never allowing her head to droop beneath the weight of the crown. 

The ceremony was truly underway now, and all were as solemn and attentive as if they truly expected a dragon to descend at midnight.

The Queen slowly made her way around the circle, staring into the eyes of each maiden.  This was the traditional way of telling whether a maiden was truly a maiden, or had lost the requisite maidenly virtue.  Despite her lack of first hand knowledge, Malena knew that this was not the way to determine such things, but this was the realm of tradition, after all, not reality.   

When all twenty-one maidenly virtues had been approved, the Queen stepped to the center of the ring.  She held aloft a single gold coin.  On each side was the head of a fierce dragon with flames shooting from its flared nostrils.  As the hushed crowd watched, the queen flung the coin high into the air.

Malena held her breath, watching the torch light catch and reflect from each side of the coin as it revolved against the night sky until it fell to earth and the lot was cast. 

The townsfolk and villagers jostled one another, straining to see where the coin had landed.  They followed the direction of the dragon's eye to see the Chosen. 

Malena felt her pulse pound in her temples as all eyes turned to look at her.  She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. 

She wasn't particularly shy, but she could hardly help being unnerved by the undivided attention of every person in her small world.  Every villager and nobleman in the Land was now looking at her.  Even the royalty were staring at her.  She wasn't particularly superstitious, either, but felt a sudden, creeping, surely irrational, fear that perhaps this night, the night on which she was the Chosen, a dragon would once again appear as they had ages ago when the Land was young.   
         
"Merely symbolic.  Over soon," she told herself as the Queen stepped toward her.

"Come," the Queen commanded in a low voice. 

Together, the queen and Malena passed around the circle, the two pausing before each maiden for Malena to receive a pouch of gold pieces.  As the queen finally led her toward the Dragon Stake, Malena felt her knees nearly buckle.  The cold, her fraying nerves, and the weight of the gold around her neck combined to push Malena precariously close to fainting.  She was relieved when she was able to lean against the stake and allow the Queen to tie her securely.  At least, while she was tied there she could not fall and cause herself to be more of a spectacle. 
         
"Merely symbolic.  Over soon," she mumbled to herself.  A warm gust of wind suddenly swept over her and she looked up into the night sky.  The rain had stopped and the clouds had cleared.  Stars winked at her, high and distant and silent, undisturbed by the drama below.  No moon interfered with the starlight as it fell, needle-sharp, on Malena. 

The cold enclosed her again and snapped her attention back to the Queen, who now stepped away from Malena and cried out over the crowd, "Midnight approaches!" 

At a signal from the Captain of the Queen's Guard, the myriad torches which had thus far lit the ceremony were simultaneously extinguished. 

Before her eyes had a moment to adjust to the sudden dark, Malena felt another warm gust of wind, and, this time, she heard a sound as of her father's manuscripts when they were rustled by the breeze from an open casement.  At the same moment, she became aware of a strong smell like nothing she had ever known before.  It smelled of earth and animal, but carried an undercurrent of cloying sweetness.  The odor swept over her and she fought a wave of dizziness. 

The dark was as thick as ever when she felt the ropes which tied her fall to the ground, and what felt like a strong hand encircle her waist and lift her into the air. 

When the Captain of the Queen's Guard lit his torch again, a gasp of horror rippled through the crowd.  The Chosen was gone.  The space in the center of the Pit was empty.  And no matter how many times they all walked around the pit, or called the maid's name, or looked in bewildered shock at each other, the space remained empty.

Malena gradually regained consciousness.  The first thing of which she became aware was a thick warmth which enveloped her, although she could feel the wind touching her through the thin material of her shift.  The second thing of which she became aware was that smell.  The sweetness no longer made her dizzy, but had become a pleasant complement to the smell of the rain which lingered on the night air. 

"That's all well and good," she thought, "but what is it that smells so?  And why do I feel the wind but am as warm as if I were in my own bed?"

She opened her eyes.  Colors swirled past her; her stomach heaved, and she squeezed her eyes shut.  The curiosity was too much to resist, though, and, bracing her stomach, she opened her eyes again.  Far below her, trees, fields, sleeping farmsteads, all flew past her at an impossible speed.  The wind whipped through her hair and made her shift flap around her ankles.  She was held, even cradled, in what appeared to be a large set of talons.  Above her, she saw what might be the underbelly of a bird, though it was covered in hard, iridescent scales rather than feathers.  She heard and felt rather than saw the great wings above her expand and contract against the sides of the beast.  Each movement of the wings sounded like the manuscript in the wind she had heard before. 

The dragon, for such it was, seemed to be aiming for a set of mountain peaks some distance ahead of them.  Malena knew that they were far outside the bounds of any distance she had ever roamed before, and so did not attempt to guess where they might be, nor even where they might be going.

So it was true, after all.  There were dragons.  Or, one dragon, at the very least. 

"Merely symbolic," she told herself with a wry smile. 

Within moments, the mountain peaks loomed large, and Malena was able to see the dramatic rise and fall of the slopes.  Her stomach lurched as they descended a little and appeared to be aiming for a collision with a sheer, granite cliff. 

At the last moment, Malena saw an opening in the wall of granite, then felt a blast of warm air as they passed through a stone portal.  Immediately she was lain gently on the ground.   

Malena looked around and saw a large cave, glowing with bundles of lit rushes fitted into a dozen sconces on the wall.  Further into the cave, she saw what appeared to be a well-appointed bedchamber, with heavy tapestries to act as buffers between the cold, wet walls of the cave and the luxuries within.  The cave, she realized, was fitted out for a human, a man, if she correctly interpreted the various bits of weaponry and armor lying about. 
         
Beside her, the dragon was still, other than the rapid breathing of a winded animal.  In the light, Malena could study the creature.  At first it appeared to be entirely black, but as the rushlight played on the surface of the beast's scales, Malena began to snatch glimpses of iridescent green, blue, purple, and even, occasionally, a deep red.  In size, it resembled her grandmother's cottage, and in shape, it resembled the pictures she had seen in her father's books: small head, menacing jaws, long, sleek neck, powerful shoulders and haunches, large leathery wings, and well-muscled tail, tapering to a barbed end.  It was certainly enough to frighten any maiden, and yet Malena was not terrified.  She was apprehensive, certainly, but felt instinctively that she was in no immediate danger.  That strange smell was still present, but now seemed somehow reassuring to her.

As she struggled to her feet, she realized that the wind had dried her shift, and, despite the damp look of the walls, the cave was quite warm and she was no longer shivering with cold. 

She suddenly froze, though, when she heard a very human, very male voice say,
         
"Well, then, Meggie, let's see what we've got."

Malena listened to booted footfalls approach from the other side of the beast. 

"By the Dragon, what are you?"

Malena looked into the face of a man with hair and eyes as black as the dragon.  He was young and handsome, though that face was marred now by a deep scowl.  Malena was confused by a thrill of recognition which shot through her, though she was certain she had never before met such a person.  She would have remembered. 
         
As the fellow seemed to expect a response, Malena stammered an answer,

"I'm...I'm Malena.  I'm the Chosen," she said, thinking that might help to explain the matter.

"The Chosen," he repeated slowly, as though he did not quite believe her. 

Suddenly, the man closed his eyes and let out an agonized curse.  He opened his eyes and pinned her with a fierce stare.

"Tell me you are not the virginal sacrifice required in the legend." 

"But, I am," Malena said, hesitantly. 

"Dragon above, why?" The exasperation in his voice was obvious.           

"Well...b-because, that's what's required."  A wrinkle of confusion creased Malena's brow.  At no time in the instructions she had received for being one of The Twenty-one had she heard a single word of what to do if a dragon suddenly should appear.  It was so far out of the realm of possibility that no one prepared for such an event. 
         
"You must come from a land of purists, then," the man said gruffly, "for everyone else has long since gone to offering farm animals, rather than maidens.  Far more sensible, too, if you ask me."  He pushed a hand through his hair, ruffling it slightly like a small boy.  He looked at Malena as though she presented more than a little difficulty.

"Well, you could just take me back," Malena offered cautiously.

He grunted in answer, but seemed to consider her offer for a moment.  Malena began to feel hopeful that she would, after all, be back in her own warm bed before morning, just as her mother had promised.

Abruptly, though, he gave a curt shake of his head.

"No.  They'd never offer the sacrifice again if they didn't fear the consequences of failing to do so."  He placed his hands on his hips and shook his head.  "But what am I going to do with you?"  He narrowed his eyes at her.  "What, in the name of the Dragon, am I going to do with you?"
         
Malena's exhaustion vanished into exasperation. 

"What do you mean what are you going to do with me?"  She planted her hands on her hips, mirroring the stranger.  "What do you usually do with virgin sacrifices?"  At Malena's raised voice, the dragon suddenly turned and aimed a malevolent, slitted eye at the girl.  Malena gave a startled gasp and stumbled back until her shoulder touched the cave wall. 

"It's all right, Meggie," the man murmured.  Then to Malena he said, "She's quite protective, you see.  You'd better be ware.  I cannot say what she may do if she perceives you as a threat to me." 

A loud, "Ha!" escaped Malena.  But when the dragon let out a warning snort, she cowered against the wall again. 

The man crossed his arms over his chest.

"As I was about to say, mistress, I've never been faced with a virgin sacrifice before."

"Really?"  Keeping a wary eye on the dragon, Malena kept her voice low, but dripped it heavily with sarcasm.  "You and the dragon managed to kidnap me handily enough, I assumed this was a regular activity of yours."  Malena cautiously edged away from the damp wall as the dragon turned away from the humans again, apparently content that no immediate danger threatened the man. 

"Oh, we do that all the time.  But, as I said, most places have gone to offering farm animals laden with gold, rather than young, empty-headed girls."   

She ignored the jibe. 

"Who are you, anyway?" she demanded.  "And what right do you have to take the Great Dragon's sacrifice?" 

The man paused before answering and Malena glared into his eyes.  She was momentarily distracted from her anger when she realized that his eyes were not a solid black, as she had at first thought.  Rather, they shimmered with the same flecks of green, blue, purple, and deep red which shone on the dragon's flank.  She knew then that, somehow, this man and this dragon were not merely man and beast, but were deeply connected. 
         
"I have no reason to hide it, I suppose.  I am Draak, of the Draakoni people," he answered with a mocking bow.  "The People of the Dragon, you would say.  We have cared for the dragons...," Here, the dragon beside them grunted softly, and Draak glanced at it.  "...and they for us," he added, "since they migrated from these mountains eons ago."

"But why take the sacrifice now?  The Rite has been merely a tradition for so long, many of us believed the dragons no longer existed.  Why now?" Malena asked, her voice still low, but filled with anger.

"Why?  Why do you think?"  His voice sank to a growl.  "Money."  Immediately his eyes dropped to the purses around Malena's neck.  Her hands instinctively fluttered to the heavy load of gold she wore, as though to protect it. 

"I'll take those now, if you please."  The man made no move to forcibly remove the pouches, but Malena stole another wary glance at the dragon, and then began to pull them over her head, one by one. 

When all of the pouches were piled on the floor at her feet, Draak inclined his head in a small bow and said,

"I thank you, mistress."       

With the weight of the gold removed, fatigue and shock conspired to make Malena feel suddenly light-headed, as though she might fly into the air.

"Oh, no you don't," the man said as Malena wavered on her feet.  It was too late, though, and he caught her just before she fell to the cave floor. 

"Well, Meggie, would you look at that?" he said, perplexed.  He carried his unconscious burden to the bed and laid her down with surprising gentleness. 

He looked at his unwilling victim and cursed himself for a fool.  From a distance, it had looked like any other Rite of the Dragon.  Why had he not taken more care to be sure of what he was actually taking?  In the last few months, he and Meggie had successfully slipped away with the sacrifice in so many towns, villages, and tiny kingdoms that it had become routine.  He should have known that a place which kept to the tradition of the summer solstice would keep all of the other traditions as well.  He had begun to take for granted that no one would follow the old legend precisely, and he had certainly profited thereby.  But, as he assured himself time and again, he and Meggie were also performing a favor for the people who offered the sacrifice, for what more excitement could they want than to have their sacrifice mysteriously taken?  The villagers and townsfolk would be talking of this for a long time, and Draak felt that he was doing something good for those simple folk.  He did not stop to think of the loss those same simple folk might feel when their gold pieces and valuable livestock were gone.  No, in his mind, it was simply that he succeeded in securing the money his people needed, and the simple folk enjoyed the thrill of a mystery. 
         
This had all worked out very well, indeed, until he had allowed his vigilance to waver.  Now, here he was with a maid on his hands.

"And a lovely maid at that," he thought, gazing at dark lashes which swept against flawless skin; pink lips, sweetly parted; and dark hair trailing over his own pillow.  "Lovely, certainly, but no meek miss," he thought, remembering the look of challenge, the spark of anger, which had been in her eyes earlier.

Draak felt Meggie nudge his back and glanced over his shoulder. 

"No, Meggie," he said quietly, as if in answer to a question.  "She is not the one.  I must return her," he said, contradicting his earlier decision. 
             
Meggie snorted in disapproval.

"I'm glad if you like her, but if she is the one, she must come willingly, not dragged away as a virgin sacrifice."  He looked at Malena with regret.  "You might as well wake her, I suppose."
         
Meggie turned toward the still figure on the bed, inhaled deeply, and blew gently on the girl's face. 
         
In the darkness, Malena smelled that odor again, stronger than ever.  This time, though, rather than making her feel faint, or even comforting her, it seemed to heighten her senses.  She was aware of every thing which touched her skin, of every current of air which moved around her.  Her skin prickled with the awareness of a warm presence beside her.  She stirred and opened her eyes.  And looked up into the face of the stranger, the dragon man, Draak. 

Malena realized that her anger was gone, inexplicably replaced with an intense desire to know this stranger better, to see his face unguarded and relaxed, to make him happy, somehow.  She could not understand her change of heart, but could in no way reverse it or act against it.  She did not recognize the powers which were working upon her.

She suddenly recalled something which she had not even been aware of hearing. 

"Why am I not the one?" she asked quietly.  "Was I not chosen by the Queen's coin?" 

Draak's face stilled.

"What?"

Malena struggled to sit up.  She felt entirely recovered from her faint.  In fact, she felt more invigorated than she ever remembered feeling before.  That smell again.  It seemed to be giving her mind and body strength, completely eliminating the need she had felt earlier for sleep. 
         
The man swallowed and said in a curiously strained voice,

"What did you say about the Queen's coin?"

Malena stood and looked up at Draak.

"I was chosen by the Queen's coin.  The one with the dragon's head on it.  That's how I became the Chosen." 

Draak suddenly turned away from her and walked away a few paces.  The dragon swung her head slowly to follow him with her eyes.

"Yes," he said abruptly, "I know what the legend says.  But she still has not come willingly." 

Malena watched as the dragon seemed to be communicating to Draak, though Malena could hear no sound other than a soft purr coming from the creature's throat. 

Hesitantly, Malena approached Draak.  His back was to her, a forbidding black wall of muscle and sinew.  But so powerfully attractive, Malena found it impossible to retreat. 

The feeling of heightened senses continued, making Malena slightly giddy, as though she might fly apart at any moment.  She hardly recognized her own hand as she reached out to touch the man.  In some detached part of her mind, she was surprised at herself, behaving so boldly with a man, a stranger at that.  But she could in no way stop herself.  As soon as she touched his shoulder, she felt his muscles tense. 

Slowly, he turned to face her.  Malena looked into his eyes and saw all those mysterious colors leaping like flames in black depths.  His heated gaze raked her face, finally resting on her lips. 

Again, a force she could not name compelled Malena to reach out and touch Draak.  Her skin felt raw, as though only his touch could soothe.  Her lips ached, as though only his lips on hers could ease the pain. 

Malena touched his face, gently placing her palm against his cheek, reveling in the textures of gritty stubble and smooth skin.  She ran her thumb across his lips, fascinated with their silky texture.  And she had to know.  She had to know what they would feel like against her own lips. 

She slid her hand behind his head and gently pressed it down until she could reach his lips.  Waves of heat washed through Malena as lips brushed softly, once, and then again.  It was not enough.  Not nearly enough.  She pressed closer and her lips demanded more.

Thus far, Draak had stood, tension rippling his muscles, allowing her to do as she wished.  He felt himself mesmerized by the slow seduction he saw in her eyes, and male instincts clamoured that there would be more.  Much more.  He knew he should stop her, knew it would be the honorable thing, but somehow, at that moment, it seemed to be the one thing of which he was incapable. 

Draak yielded to the pressure and wrapped his arms around her, his hands hungrily devouring the soft curves of her back, sliding down to cup her buttocks and press her hard against him. 

Malena's body quivered with sensations.  His touch warmed, soothed, and excited all at the same time.  The thin fabric of her shift suddenly constituted a weight too great to bear.  She reached up to untie the bow which held the neck of the garment together.  She pulled until she felt the knot give way and the shift slipped off one shoulder. 

Immediately, Draak's hand was there, caressing the exposed shoulder, pushing the shift down a little farther.  Leaving that expanse of skin to tantalize him for a moment, his hand drifted up to tangle in her hair.  He pressed her mouth hard against his own, deepening their kiss, tasting her more fully.

Malena's mind had ceased to function.  She could not think of anything from her own past, nor see anything in the future, nothing save this moment.  She could only feel. 

Draak felt himself drowning in a haze of desire.  His mind, though severely narrowed, was functioning, and he knew with delightful certainty what the immediate future held. 

But something nagged at him, some gnawing worry which could not be completely consumed by his desires.  Impatiently, he brushed it aside and slowly trailed his hand down her exposed shoulder.

And then he knew.

"No!"  The word came out as a roar as Draak suddenly pulled away from Malena. 

Malena stared in shocked surprise, her newly awakened passion left throbbing with need, as though a precious supply of oxygen had been cut off to her siezing lungs.

Draak looked at Malena, taking in her reddened, swollen lips, her loosened shift and the look of surprised hurt in her eyes. 

"I'm sorry," Draak said, dragging in a ragged breath.  He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. 

When he opened his eyes, he rounded on the dragon which still stood only a few feet away from them. 

"Meggie!"  The anger in his voice would have made any lesser creature cringe in fear, but the dragon only blinked at him, neither returning his anger nor backing away from it. 

"I've told you not to do that."  Draak's voice was low and lethal.  "Do you know what would most certainly have happened if I hadn't...?"  Draak dragged a hand over his face. 

Meggie's purring resumed.

"Well, it wouldn't have worked anyway," Draak responded.  "She has to be a virgin!  Or did that escape your notice in your brilliant plan?"

Malena was listening to this conversation, or the half of it she could hear, while desperately trying to gather her scattered wits.  She retied the drawstring on her shift and combed through her hair with her fingers.  Gone were the heightened senses and the sweet smell which she realized had accompanied them. 

She felt deflated somehow, suddenly weary.  Only her own strength bouyed her now, and it was flagging. 

She was left with the conflicting emotions of wonder and shame.  What had she almost done?  What she had done was shocking enough; she could not contemplate what might have happened next.  She was also left, though, with an aching awareness of some unfulfilled need, some deep desire to recapture those feelings. 

Finally, the one-sided conversation was too much.  Embarrassment and frustration exploded into wrath.

"Would you please explain what is going on?"

Draak turned back to Malena, a polite distance between them, both mentally and physically. 

"It seems that Meggie here has some misguided notion of making you willing to come home with us.  She used her ability to control human thoughts to, er, heighten our attraction to each other, heighten our sensations."  Draak shot an angry look at the dragon.  "Thankfully, after long years of experience, I know when she's doing it to me." He faltered for a moment.  "Or at least I figure it out eventually."

Malena shook her head.

"Mind control?  You must think me a real provincial to try that."  Malena realized that she hadn't exactly proven herself otherwise by fainting and then launching a lustful attack on a perfect stranger.  She brushed aside the thought, unwilling to contemplate her own unexplained actions.

Draak sighed heavily.

"Here, let me explain and let Meggie do her thing."  He turned to the dragon.  "Meggie, only what I say, agreed?" 

Whatever she replied, Draak seemed satisfied. 

He gestured to a plush chair beside the bed. 

Malena was loath to admit it, but she was glad to sit down.  Draak stood in front of her, hands clasped behind his back, like a schoolboy reciting his lessons.

"Eons ago," he began, "when the dragons came to our island and took up residence with us, the Great Dragon gave us a prophecy.  This prophecy said that at a time of great need, indeed when our very continuation was threatened, the Chosen would come.  Revealed by the Queen's coin, this special Chosen would come willingly, though loved ones be left behind, and, by joining the blood of the Chosen with the royal blood of our people in a great feast, the Draakoni and the race of dragons would be preserved." 

As Draak spoke, Malena could see his island home in her mind's eye, more vivid than any inner vision could naturally be.  She looked at the dragon and saw Meggie staring at her.  Somehow, Malena realized in wonder, the dragon was conveying the images to her mind.  It was a beautiful place, their island, full of lush greens and brilliant blues.  More amazingly, a place where man and dragon lived together in mutual reliance and peace.

Draak paused.  Waiting for the images to play in Malena's head, then slowly fade. 

"The prophecy clearly means for a blood sacrifice" he concluded.  "Even if you are the Chosen, I will not take you back with me."

Malena sat silently for a moment, then asked, "But what will happen to your home?  Is the need very great?"

Draak gave a grim laugh.

"Very great, indeed.  That is why Meggie and I came back to the mountains.  Since we dared not hope for the Chosen, we knew that we at least needed gold to hold off the invaders.  I figured that if the old stories were true, there might be some who still held the traditions, and there might be gold for the taking."  He rubbed a knuckle over the grim line of his mouth.  "That probably sounds mercenary to you, but we are desperate."  His voice was little more than a whisper, but then, with more strength, he said, "We are not so desperate, though, that we will take an innocent and shed her blood." 

Suddenly, the images in Malena's mind of a peaceful, sun-laden island, Draak and Meggie's home, were replaced by images of violence and destruction.  Malena saw the island devastated, the dragons slain, Draak's people killed or enslaved.  She saw Draak himself being led in chains.  She saw the end of all that was good and dear between the dragons and the Draakoni, the end of their world.  Malena knew that Meggie was showing her the future as it would be without her help.

And in that moment, Malena knew that in some way her own path was tied up with the paths of Draak and Meggie.  She knew that she could not simply return to her parents and her former life.  Somehow, a new life beckoned to her and she could not turn her back on it.

"I will go," Malena said quietly.

Draak stared at her.  This girl, a simple maid, was willing to turn her back on her own land and people in order to save a land and a people she did not even know.  For a moment, he was tempted to take her at her word.

"No!" he cried savagely.  "I will not let you."  He whirled on the dragon.  "Meggie, what are you doing?"  He passed a weary hand over his eyes.  "Please tell me you are not interfering again."  The dragon merely looked at Draak and then curled up to sleep, unconcerned with his disapproval. 

Malena stood to face him.

"But I go willingly."

"I don't care," he said bitterly.  "You don't know the control a dragon can exert on your mind.  It would not be fair."

"Is she controlling my mind right now?"  Malena demanded.

Draak looked at the dragon still curled comfortably beside them.  Her breathing was deep and even.  Asleep.  He never ceased to be amazed at how quickly a dragon could fall sound asleep. 

"No," he admitted reluctantly.  "But you're still under the influence," he said stubbornly. 

Malena tamped down her impatience and forced herself to speak in a reasonable tone. 

"You yourself admit that I am the Chosen which the Great Dragon promised, do you not?"

"Perhaps," Draak evaded, looking down into wide brown eyes.  Suddenly, his face lost its fierce scowl and he raised a hand to Malena's cheek.  "Perhaps," he repeated softly, "but how could I let you be destroyed for my sake?  My own blood I give willingly, but yours I cannot."

Malena savored the feel of his hand on her cheek.  She wanted to raise her own hand and hold his there, but resisted, wary of igniting the passions of earlier.  Instead, she concentrated on his words.

"Your own blood?"

"Yes," Draak said, rubbing his thumb across her cheekbone.  "If you are the Chosen, then mine is the royal blood which must be shed."

Without their blood, that beautiful island of sunshine and peace, along with the races of Dragons and Draakoni would be gone forever. 

Malena looked into Draak's eyes.  Malena felt then as though some upheaval she had never recognized within herself suddenly righted and fell into place.  She was bound to him.  Wherever he went, she would go.  Whatever happened to him, she would partake of the same fate. With or without the dragon's influence, Malena knew that she could no more leave Draak than she could touch the stars.

"But must it mean death?" Malena asked urgently.  "A person may give a lot of blood and yet live." 

Suddenly, Meggie nudged Draak. 

"What, Meggie?"  Irritated, Draak released Malena and half turned to hear the dragon.  "What do you want?"

The dragon purred into his ear.

Malena was startled when Draak broke into laughter. 

She looked at him, confusion clear in her eyes. 

Draak sobered, but stood with a bemused look on his face.

"What?" Malena prompted impatiently.  "What is it?"

"Meggie points out an interesting fact," he said, amusement coloring his voice.  "She, clever dragon, points out that there is more than one way to mingle blood."

Malena's brow creased in confusion.

Draak continued.  "All along, I've been imagining a gory blood-letting when the elusive Chosen finally appears, with bowls of blood poured together to fulfill the prophecy."

Malena shuddered, but Draak went on cheerfully. 

"Blood may also mingle," he paused and looked into Malena's eyes, "in a child."

Malena's cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment as she realized what Draak was telling her. 

Draak was suddenly serious.  "Are you still willing to go with me, though it means leaving behind all you have known?"

Malena smiled.  This she knew with certainty.

"Indeed, I am willing." 

"Though it means being married to me?  Bearing my children?"  Draak pressed, needing to be certain.

Without hesitation, Malena answered, "Yes." 

Suddenly, she thought of the power of the brief kisses she had shared with Draak and had to ask, 

"Will it always feel like...that?" 

Malena could not imagine how men and women ever accomplished anything else with that kind of powerful force between them.  She could not imagine her parents ever feeling that, nor any of their neighbors.

Draak understood what she was asking and smiled.

"Let me just say that the dragons have enhanced our lives in every way." 

Malena looked surprised.  "Do you mean that it's not that way elsewhere?  Only with the Draakoni?"

"Well, it is a powerful force wherever you go.  And a good thing it is, too.  But the Draakoni have the advantage of dragon magic."  Draak laughed at the look of shy fascination in Malena's eyes.  "As you may imagine, the Draakoni have large families."

Draak pulled Malena into his arms and kissed her again, this time with all of the promise of many long years together ahead of them.

When he pulled away, he eyed the bed behind her.

"You know, if a child is required, perhaps we had better..."

"Oh, no," Malena laughed.  "We do not want any of the prophecy to go awry.  I must keep my virgin status for a little longer.  We will be properly wed, and enjoy a wedding feast to celebrate before that status changes."

"All right," Draak agreed, "but I hope you are not addicted to dancing."  His eyes sparkled with laughter.  "This will be the shortest celebration feast in history."

Malena laughed, then looked suddenly anxious.  "May I not go and say goodbye to my parents before we go?  Or would that alter the fulfillment of the prophecy?"

"It's fine," Draak assured her, "although, I think we'd better leave Meggie at a distance and not draw too much attention to ourselves."

Malena smiled in relief.  "None need know but my parents."

"And then, we may be away home for the wedding," Draak promised.  He kissed her again, then said abruptly,

"I don't even know your name!"

Malena laughed.

"My name is Malena.  Pleased to meet you," she purred and reached up for another kiss. 

She continued, "To put in the time profitably before we wed...," Malena laughed at Draak's surreptitious glances at the bed, "you may explain the dragons to me.  What is that smell?  How do they control minds?  Is Meggie your dragon?  May I have a dragon?  How many are there?..."

Draak chuckled softly and drew his bride close. 

Meggie blinked in sleepy satisfaction and tucked her head under one wing.   

WC: 6757