Gully

With a tattered towel Belinda dried a terra cotta mug, then lifted herself up onto her tiptoes and reached overhead to hang the mug from a row of hooks above the bar. Directly ahead, through cloudy windows framed in warping wood, she watched the early evening sun high on the horizon. A quick rap of knuckles against the counter came from the end of the bar. Belinda turned her attention towards the sound, and the man motioned her over. In a hoarse voice, he said, “Fill ‘er ep, and gimme a bowl of whatever you got.”

“Sure thing Finnegan. We got dragon stew tonight and brown potato bread, will that do ya?”

“It will, it will,” Finnegan answered.

Belinda refilled his mug before going through the side door into the kitchen. In the kitchen, a hulking man with shoulder length dark hair sat beside a large simmering vat. He had one shoe off and was picking at his big toe with a small knife.

“Lenny! Shoes on when you’re cooking - how many time does I have to tell ye!”

Lenny looked up, his cheeks flushing, “Oh I know, and I’m sorry miss Belinny, but I got this bugger last night and it’s hurtin’ somethin’ awful.” He pointed to a purple pustule that was pulsating up and down on his big toe.

“Aye, that looks bad - but what are you doing with the knife? Do you mean to cut it off yourself? And next to the stew?”

“I was thinkin’ ‘bout poking it.”

“Well stop that thinkin' and go see the Healer, I doubt she has a rubina, but perhaps she has a potion. It’s still daylight so you should be able to find her by the river, gathering flowers I expect.”

“Thanks miss Belinny, I’ll be back soon as I can.” With that, he hopped on one foot through the small kitchen and out the back door, keeping his bare foot held at knee height. With each hop the stacks of copper pots and pans that lined the small room clanged against each other.

Belinda returned to the bar with a steaming stone bowl of dragon stew and small loaf of bread. She noticed Finnegan’s mug was empty again. Without a word, Finnegan broke the loaf in half and dipped it into the stew before shoving it into his mouth.

The tavern door opened and a man whose head came only to the height of the doorknob walked in. He headed straight to the bar stool that was one foot higher than the rest.

Belinda reached up and grabbed a small mug with a cursive ‘hp’ painted on the bottom, and greeted him saying, “‘Lo there halfpenny, how’s the day treating ye?”

“Alright, but I need winter to come. These leaves should have turned two moons ago, but look at ‘em, still green and looking just as they do in the summer.”

Finnegan made a low growl in angry agreement. In recognition, Halfpenny raised his mug in Finnegan’s direction before taking his first sip of ale.

“I know, and look at the sun! Still high in the sky, like a midsummer’s eve. For this time ‘o year, it should have been dark hours ago,” Belinda said.

Halfpenny set his mug down and folded his hands in front of him before saying, “The scrolls foretold this, ‘The river’s store will be no more, when those that keep the seasons are bested by heathens.’

“Hog’s wash!,” interrupted Finnegan, “The scrolls have never made sense of nuthin before and they won’t now neither. It’s time to leave this land and find the New River, one that gives in all seasons.”

Halfpenny’s eyebrows shot up, “Why Finn, there’s no such river. The scrolls say, ‘When branches are bare and cold is in the air, only then a river giveth its snare.”

“I been told there is, and it’s only a seven moon walk,” Finnegan answered defiantly.

Belinda’s eyebrows arched, “Who told you about this river, Finn?”

Finn took a long drag from the mug Belinda had refilled. Once finished, he settled back in his stool and took a deep breath before saying, “Seven nights ago I was hunting dragons with Lenny in the Ebon Forest. I was stalking the river bed looking for younglings when we got separated. I saw a small fire and made my way towards it. When I got there I saw a pot bubbling on top, and Wizard Tyro was adding dandelion greens to it. Without turning to face to me, he said, ‘Greetings Finnegan Gull. How’s your daughter?’. I told him she was sound asleep at home and growing quickly, but that my rubina harvest had run out. It was only by hunting dragons I was able to keep feeding her, and heaven forbid she get an illness or injury.”

“Aye,” Belinda and Halfpenny echoed in nervous agreement.

Finn continued on, “He said he had two things to tell me, but knowing them would force me to make a difficult choice. First he said, “Gully was born for greatness. She inherited the fire spirit of her mother, the steadfastness of her father, the generosity of the river, and the resilience of the arboreal. Teach her what you can, but let her roam freely, worry not, for this land and its creatures have been waiting for her.”

At this, Halfpenny choked on his beer and Belinda raised her hands to her cheeks and gasped. Finnegan took drags from his mug until they urged him to continue, asking what else the wizard had said.

“He said winter will not come and this river will not give until things change. I begged him to say more, but he wouldn’t. But he said there is a New River, a distance of seven full moons from here, that gives in all seasons. One can find it he said, by following the petal pups as they fly.”

Halfpenny looked incredulous, his eyes open wide and a small smirk across his mouth. “Those little multi-colored birds, no larger than a chestnut, that fly in circles in and out of the bramble bushes? How can a fellow follow them?”

Finn shrugged and continued, “We heard a high pitched yowl. I knew it was Lenny, and he must’ve run into some trouble with the dragons so I ran in the direction of the sound. Sure enough, I found Len hopping around holding his foot letting out awful yelps. The spine ball of the dragon’s tail had landed on his foot, it cut right through the boot and pierced straight to his big toe. But Lenny had managed to snare the dragon before it flew away. Just a few yards over a good sized youngling was inside Lenny’s tungsten net breathing fire at the mesh.” Ladling a spoonful to his mouth, he added, “And I’ll say, that dragon made for a mighty fine stew tonight. Tender and flavorful.”

Belinda poured herself a mug of ale. “If winter won’t come, what will happen to us? The last harvest has run out for all villagers, everyone’s surviving on scraps and forageables. My bar’s been empty for weeks, as no one has money or anything to trade. The only patrons I see anymore are you two, Halfpenny surviving on net building and Finn, you on dragon meat.”

She finished the contents of her mug and peered inside it as if looking for more, then said, “Follow the petal pups, huh?”

“Yep. Follow the petal pups and they’ll lead to a river that gives in all seasons,” Finn answered.

Halfpenny let out an usually large burp, and in embarrassment slapped his hands over his mouth.

***

When Finn exited the tavern that night he was greeted by the full moon, and it reminded him of his wife. She’d had hair as white and luminous as that which hung in the night sky. They’d been inseparable from age 15, married at 21, and on the morning Gully was born, his wife had taken her last breath. Every day since then Finn had woken up angry. That anger helped him hunt dragons, but it didn’t help him raise a child. He knew this, and as he walked home he thought about Gully - how self-sufficient she was for a three year. Most evenings since her birth, he’d read her the same page of her favorite book, tucked her into bed and then left not returning ’til dawn. In the nights, he harvested, hunted, fished, wandered, anything to keep his mind from dwelling on the life that he was left with. Only when his body was fully exhausted could he fall asleep in the bed he’d once shared.

By the time he got to their cottage his resolve was set. He would depart tonight for the New River. He would leave a note for Belinda, asking her to collect Gully and care for her until he could return. The only thing worse then leaving his daughter would be letting her starve or suffer in this endless summer, so he had no choice, he would follow the petal pups.

***

The next morning, Belinda, being a bar maid and keeping rather late hours, slept as she normally did until near mid-day. Once awake, she tended to her garden out back, though there was little to tend as the relentless sun and heat was dehydrating her plants. She laundered and cleaned, and never opened the front door until she left for the tavern in the early evening. When she did step out, a tightly curled scroll fell from the door knob onto her feet.

Belinda, I’ve left for the New River. Please take care of Gully while I’m gone. I’ll be back as soon as I can, with bounty to share. - Finn

Belinda’s nose scrunched in anger as she read the note. “That imbecile!,” she said aloud, “Leaving a three year home alone and not even having the decency to knock!”.

Muttering threats of what she’d like to teach Finn, she trotted off towards Gull Cottage in a hurry. Once in view she saw the front door was wide open and broke into a run. Inside, she found a bottle of milk overturned with the contents spilled over the table, onto the floor and seeping into a doll. She searched the two room cottage, but the child was nowhere to be found. She ran about the garden and the nearby brush, calling out for Gully but heard no reply. To stop herself from panicking, she stopped running, put her head in her hands and said aloud again and again, “Think Belinda. What should you do? … Think Belinda. What should you do?”

***

Gully had awoken that morning, like she often did, to find the house empty. She did as Father said, and tried to make a bowl of milk and puffed barley, but the barley sack was empty too. She played with Dolly for a while, but her stomach kept rumbling in request for food. Dolly heard the rumbles, and suggested that Gully go get barley from the fields. Gully thought that was a good idea, put on her shoes, and headed out.

When she got to the field, she saw it held only dry, brittle, and broken stalks. Without a cloud to dampen it, the sun pounded overhead. Sweat dripped down Gully’s forehead. At the edge of the field, the tall trees of the forest beckoned, promising shade beneath their verdant glory. She walked towards them and once under the canopy sat down, enjoying the cool air. After a few minutes a small brown rabbit hopped out of a nearby bush and disappeared into another. Gully got up to follow it, and again it hopped from one bush to another. Gully followed. This went on for some time, as the rabbit led Gully deeper and deeper into the forest and down the slope of the gorge.

They reached the river bed and the rabbit disappeared into a bramble bush along the bank. Gully knew bramble berries. When her dad returned in the morning he often brought a pocketful to add to her bowl of barley. Hungrily, she plucked berries one by one and deposited them into her mouth until the growling in her stomach subsided. She looked in the bush for the rabbit but couldn’t find it.

Faintly, she could hear splashing up the river, accompanied by a sound that was almost like laughing. From where Gully stood the river climbed steeply up, through a series of cascading falls. She could not see above the next set of falls, but again heard splashing and joyous sounds coming from that direction. It sounded like Lenny when he flew her like a bird around the garden. With one hand on her stomach and the other on her back, he would hold her while he ran around, swooping her up and down. She would stretch out her arms and caw like a bird, making Lenny laugh. Lenny’s laugh was big and boisterous, and once he got started he couldn’t stop. And sometimes, as they flew about the garden, Lenny’s laugh was so infectious that her Dad would start laughing quietly until his eyes glistened.

Gully thought it must be Lenny, so she began the difficult climb over rocks and roots up the bank. She passed three small cascades and then crested a large rock to find a magnificent pool. The pool was a deep, dark blue, and at the far end, white water poured over the rocks. Suddenly, she heard a loud “dut dut duuuutttt” and a large thing launched itself over the falls, spinning twice in the air, before plunging into the pool. The spiny ball of its tail hit the water last. Gully, who had been crawling, stayed low and very still. The thing emerged, shooting up above the water, and letting out a cry that sounded very much like Lenny’s laugh, before falling backwards into the pool again. It did this a few more times before swimming to shore and crawling out onto the bank just a few strides from Gully. She stayed very still. The thing shook, turning side-to-side tossing the water from it’s scales, and as it did so, spotted Gully and froze, each caught in the other’s gaze. Dark amber eyes with small black slits locked on Gully’s wide, green eyes ringed in white. The wind was blowing gently, and at that moment something swept up Gully’s nose. She squinted, trying not to sneeze, but something deep within had been tickled and she let out a very large sneeze that shook her whole body. The amber eyes watched the small creature fight the sneeze before letting out a monstrous sound and shaking like an autumn leaf in winter’s wind. The amber eyes curled up, and again the happy sound rang out of its mouth. Gully hesitated, but the creature continued making this funny sound, and like Lenny’s it was contagious, so she began laughing too. Once Gully joined in, the creature laughed harder, rolling on its back. A forceful screech and the sound of rolling thunder echoed across the sky into the small pool, interrupting their glee.

The creature’s back was covered in dark, crimson scales and its’ belly sparkled in sapphire blue. It had a large snout, lined with spiky teeth, and big, bushy eyebrows atop the amber eyes. It’s red tail ended in a ball, covered with black spikes. It had four legs, each foot adorned with long silver nails. It looked like the dragon in Gully’s favorite book, but that one was yellow and did not laugh.

Again, the screech rang out, this time louder and longer.

The dragon got up on all fours, then lept into the air leaving Gully alone. It flapped its wings rising steeply away from her, and then turned and looked back. Again, their eyes locked. Gully was scared, she blinked rapidly as a small lump grew in her throat. The dragon swung its head back around and continued flying away.

Gully watched it long after it was out of sight. Small tears formed at the corners of her eyes and slowly slid down her cheeks, dripping onto her linen shirt. After a while, she heard a small scratching sound, and turned to see the brown rabbit emerge from a nearby bush. It hopped, cautiously over to her, until it got right beside her outstretched leg, and then flopped onto its side. The rabbit wiggled, rubbing its fur against her leg. Timidly, Gully stretched out her hand and pet the rabbit, and in response it made a soft cooing sound.

***

Belinda ran straight to Halfpenny’s smithy. When she arrived, he was cleaning his tools and preparing to close for the day. The beginnings of a new tungsten net lay on the wooden bench.

“Halfpenny! You must come quickly! Gully is missing!”

“Missing? What do you mean?”

“Finn - that dolt - set out for that new river last night and left her all alone. When I found out, I ran over to find her, but she’s not there!”

Halfpenny drew a deep breath, his small chest raising and stretching his leather apron taught. “Well hold ‘er on. Mebbe she’s with someone else from the village?”

A wave of relief passed over Belinda’s face, “Oh yes! Maybe she is!"

They called on each house in the village, with Belinda taking the east side and Halfpenny covering the west. There were only about 50 houses in the village, and they’d soon knocked at every door. A few knocks went unanswered, but being close to supper time most were home. Belinda and Halfpenny met at the center of the village, with Lenny and a number of other villagers in tow. No one had seen Gully. The villagers were talking excitedly with one another, trying to piece together bits of information and speculation.

“Let’s return to the cottage and see if we can find her tracks!,” Shouted one fellow holding a crossbow and a full quiver.

“Yes, now while we still have a few hours of daylight,” agreed a solemn, bearded man.

A middle aged woman in a green linen gown bellowed, “Mebbe the dragons took ‘er!”

The crowd rumbled in agreement. “Gather the torches!,” shouted one, “and the nets!,” added another.

And so, led by Lenny and Halfpenny, the band of villagers armed themselves with torches, nets, bows, and spears and set out for the cottage in search of the small child. Lenny and a few others were accomplished trackers; when they got to the cottage they quickly found the child’s footsteps in the garden, followed them to the field, and to the edge of the forest. Once under the umbrella of trees, as it often did in the Ebon forest, the tracks disappeared. One fellow’s hound started barking and pulling hard on the leash, indicating something of interest lied to the right.

“Tis over there, is it ole boy?,” the leash holder asked the dog. “It’s this way! Let’s follow the brute!,” shouted the man as he began moving in that direction

Many in the group followed. Halfpenny cast a look at Lenny and caught the slight shake of his head in disagreement.

“Uh, fellows, perhaps we aught to split up?,” Halfpenny suggested timidly, “being so little daylight left and so much forest?”

They agreed and the party split into three, not counting Belinda, who returned to the cottage to wait.

***

For hundreds of years the villagers had lived comfortably off the Ebon River’s harvest. In winter, the basalt rocks of the river bed cooled. As they cooled, fractures in the basalt would widen, releasing crimson colored gemstones, or rubinas as the villagers called them. The rubinas had many powers. When inserted into a gangrenous wound, the rubina could heal it overnight. When held close, they could warm an entire body in the dead of winter. Some claimed a potion of lifelong health could be made from a handful of rubinas. Every spring, travelers and merchants came from far and wide to offer wares and harvests in exchange for rubinas. The villagers lived a life free from wants, thanks to the bounty of rubinas they gathered each winter in the river.

Twenty years ago a traveling merchant came to the village and in his cart he carried a substance the villagers had never heard of before. He called it tungsten. It came from the land across the great sea, the merchant said, and he claimed it was strong enough to withstand dragon’s fire. The villagers were skeptical, taunting the merchant to pull a dragon from his cart and prove it. But later that night at the tavern, someone spoke up in recollection of the scrolls, “Scales and talons cannot be defeated, but that which it breathes can give just a heating.”Halfpenny’s father was an entrepreneurial bloke, and took the gamble. He bought all the tungsten the merchant had, and being a metalsmith, built one net. In a fashion similar to the search for Gully, the hunters of the town descended into the forest one evening on their first dragon hunt. That night they were not successful; the net was too rigid to snare a dragon, but it held up in the relentless scorch of the dragon’s breath.

The net was improved, and over the years that followed the villagers continued to hunt dragons with increasing success. Dragon meat was well liked by the villagers. The scales, talons, and fangs were rare and lucrative. With their bounty they purchased more and more tungsten, to make larger and stronger nets.

In the last few years, the dragon population seemed to decline, they were getting harder to find. This summer, only a few dragons had been snared, despite the large contingent of well-armed hunters.

***

Slowly, night crept over the river. The ground cooled, and the brisk air raised the hair on Gully’s arms and legs. She hugged the rabbit closer, and curled up on a rock that still held some warmth from the sun. The moon had started its climb overhead when she heard slow, heavy, flapping in the distance, and once again the dragon emerged atop the waterfall.

Again the amber eyes locked with Gully’s. The dark slits widened, and the dragon’s head tilted to the side. Trust me, it seemed to say. Gully nodded slowly in response, and the dragon made its way carefully towards her. Once in reach the dragon lowered its head and closed its eyes, bowing until even with Gully’s chest. Gully raised a hand and lightly caressed the scales of the dragon’s forehead. The dragon let out a low guttural sound, then raised its head and unfurled its wing, making a ramp from where Gully was to the dragon’s back. The dragon motioned with its head towards its wing. Cautiously, and still clutching the rabbit in her arm, Gully stepped gingerly onto the wing. She tried to walk up, but quickly slid back and had to release the rabbit. The rabbit hopped up the wing and settled into a crevice on the dragon’s back. Gully then climbed up and did the same. Gently, the dragon lifted into the air, flying low above the river towards the moon.

The creatures of the forest began to roam as night settled in. From her perch, going slow and low over the river, Gully watched elk and deer graze among the beds. The moonlight reflected cooly on the water, illuminating rocks and ripples.

The tranquility was broken by a rumble building in the distance. As it grew louder, she could make out marching and voices. She recognized the rhythm, it was the hunting song Lenny sometimes sang. In the dark, and echoed by so many, it sounded ominous - not like the silly way Lenny sang it.

The dragon paused, listening too, and then turned quickly. Gully wasn’t prepared. She slid off the dragon’s back and splashed into the water. The river’s current was strong, it swept her backwards and under. In a panic, she opened her mouth and swallowed. Her nose filled with water. Her chest burned in pain. And then, she was out of the water, dangling by the waist of her pants - which were clenched in the dragon’s teeth along with the rabbit. The dragon moved quickly, flying over the treetops and into the dark of the forest.

The trees cleared and the dragon dropped down the face of a rock. At the bottom there was a pool of water against an entrance to a dark cave. The dragon laid Gully on a large flat rock and prodded her gently with its nose. She shivered, curled her legs up towards her body and wrapped her arms around her knees. The dragon scanned the horizon, then disappeared into the cave.

***

Halfpenny held a skewered fish over a small fire. As he rotated the skewer, he pleaded, “Lenny, we must turn back. The men are growing weak, it’s been three days since we last had any real food. And these trout are so small a fellow needs thirty a day to quell the hunger.” The others grumbled in agreement.

In defiance and without raising his head from the spear he was sharpening, Lenny answered gruffly, “We can’t. We must find her.”

“But we don’t even know that she’s in the forest! For all we know she wandered out and caught up with her idiot Dad,” argued a man with a long beard full of broken twigs and leaves.

“Aye!,” the group echoed.

Lenny realized he was outnumbered and begrudgingly agreed, “Fine. We’ll go back, resupply and if no one in the village knows any better we’ll head back out after one night. I’m not leaving her body to the beasts.”

At a clip, Lenny led them back the way they’d come. This time with no marching and no chanting of hunting songs. When back in the village they found the two other parties had already returned, and neither had found any trace of Gully. In the time they were gone several villagers had become ill, and the community was without rubinas to aid them. The townspeople buzzed with nervous anxiety, winter was very late.

***

The leaves of the Ebon Forest remained green, never turning yellow or red, never changing from that vibrant autumnal hue to brown, never falling from the branch to the ground. The sun shone brightly, day after day, from early morning to late in the evening. Autumn winds never arrived and winter was a distant memory. Without winter, the villager’s bountiful harvest of rubinas never arrived, so they departed in seek of more prosperous land.

For thirteen years, Gully was raised by dragons in the endless summer. She spent her days diving off waterfalls, swimming the raging river, soaring over treetops on the back of the dragon that had found her, and communing with other creatures of the forest. When she’d first arrived in the dragon’s grotto, the colony was small - only three full grown dragons, two middlings, and one small youngling. She slept in the dragon’s lair and ate what they ate, though often one of the dragons would be kind enough the torch the meat for her with one fiery breath. Over time, she learned to emulate the sounds of the dragons enough to convey her emotions.

Every few years, on a moonless night, a new dragon youngling was born. The youngling would spend its first moon cycle nursing from its mother and sleeping. Each day, the youngling’s size would double. When the moon was once again absent, the mother would take flight and be gone from the lair for many days, refueling and resting. Gully had taken to caring for the younglings. She had a favorite river pool with a small waterfall, and on the youngling’s first real dragon day, she - and often a middling or two - would take the youngling there. Gully and the older dragons would take turns jumping off the waterfall, just as her dragon had done on her first day in the forest. Entertained and excited, the youngling would forget their abandonment and join in the fun.

By the thirteenth year, the colony had grown to nearly twenty dragons. One night, after a day that had been like every other, the full grown dragons sent the younglings and Gully into the lair earlier than normal. The grown dragons gathered in a circle, screeching at one another. One sent a large fiery breath up into the air, lighting up the grotto. All through the night, the grown dragons continued their arguing, through screeches and fire and scraping of claws against the rock. Gully watched for hours but eventually gave in to the weight of her eyelids and drifted off to sleep. At dawn a thunderous stomping awoke her. The ground was moving up and down. She looked out and saw the dragons moving together in a circle. Then they shook out their wings and took to the air, flying high into the early morning clouds. As they shot back down, they opened their mouths and cast torrents of fire to the tree tops surrounding the cliff walls. In synchronicity they moved, plowing the tree tops with fire, never missing one. They flew out of sight, but she could hear the fire and the flapping of their wings continue. She crawled out of the grotto and looked up at the trees. They were not on fire. She rubbed the last remnants of sleep from her eyes, and looked again. The trees were changing. The topmost leaves of one tree were now vibrant yellow, another crimson, and to the right a cluster of orange. Like a dye, the color spread through the leaves until the entire forest was aglow.

As she stood watching, a cold wind snaked through her hair and against her neck. She hugged her arms close to her body, as the icy chill spilled down her back.

***