hurry up the satyr.
‘You’ve gotta get your hands on the White’s old bones. Then we have to perform a three-day ritual, the details of which I’m working out from the next part of the poem, with the help of this journal article. It’s like the guy wrote it with us in mind.’
Before I could say that idea was ridiculous, I thought about everything I’d seen when in thrall to the universe. If a human poet could become its puppet, scribbling away at a crazy metaphorical dragon-to-gold scheme, why couldn’t a scholar, working diligently to translate and make sense out of the poem?
I had a moment’s pang for all those vessels of the universe, toiling at what must have seemed to others like mad whims.
Caleb continued. ‘What I do know so far is that the ritual we’ll do involves the sea, and fire. At the end of all this stuff, the bones are going to yield a stone. Then we have to get ahold of the White itself and use the stone on him. The stone will transmute the White’s essence, and I’m thinking it’s going to take it into itself.’
‘Wait,’ I interrupted. ‘Whose essence? The White’s? Or Anyan’s?’
‘It has to be the White’s. This is about the dragon, not about Anyan.’
I had more questions, but Caleb kept talking.
‘It’s that stone that we use to tackle the dragons,’ the satyr said. ‘Through that stone, we destroy first him, then her. But first we have to figure out how to extract the stone from the White’s bones. So while I work out the details of the ritual, you need to get the bones.’
I opened my mouth to ask my questions but Ryu got there first.
‘And how are we supposed to separate the two dragons? We can’t have the Red flying about while we try to murder her mate.’
Caleb shrugged. ‘You’ve got to figure that part out while I translate and cross-reference the rest of this poem.’
‘Oh, we do, do we?’ Ryu asked, clearly irritated with Caleb’s high-handedness.
‘Wait,’ I said, before Caleb started apologizing. ‘I have a question.’
Both Caleb and Ryu turned to me.
‘What happens to Anyan in all of this? Does he survive?’
Caleb chewed on his bottom lip – not a good sign. When he finally spoke, he used his ‘confident healer’ voice. I imagined it was the voice he used to tell patients that they were probably dying, but still in good hands.
My lungs were suddenly too small, and I felt a sweat break out over my body.
‘To be honest, I don’t know, Jane. I really don’t. From what I’ve translated so far, the poem is only about killing the White, not saving a host.’
Caleb was clearly able to read the expression on my face.
‘You know we’ll do our best, Jane. We all want him back, too.’
I nodded, but I knew the truth. Despite the fact they didn’t want it to be so, everyone else understood that killing the Red and the White had to take precedence over saving Anyan.
At least everyone did but me.
Chapter Ten
‘You gonna be okay?’ Ryu asked, his voice laced with concern.
To be honest, I wasn’t sure about that one. We were standing in the last place I’d ever wanted to see again – the high cliff in Whitby where the ruins of the abbey had once stood. Now those ruins were really ruined, and half of the cliff had tumbled into the sea. The small cottages that had sat next to the abbey were burned-out husks.
And the soil here was soaked with the blood of the Original, Blondie, who’d died in Magog’s arms just about where I was standing. It was also the last place I’d seen Anyan, as Anyan, before his body had been hijacked by the White.
Ryu came and stood next to me, putting an arm carefully around my shoulders. It wasn’t an entirely unwelcome gesture, not least as it kept me from absconding to swim my cares away in the ocean behind me.
I’d swum immediately upon getting to Whitby, but right now just about the only thing I could think to comfort me would be the sea.
Or Anyan
, I thought.
Stripped of his
‘You’ve gotta get your hands on the White’s old bones. Then we have to perform a three-day ritual, the details of which I’m working out from the next part of the poem, with the help of this journal article. It’s like the guy wrote it with us in mind.’
Before I could say that idea was ridiculous, I thought about everything I’d seen when in thrall to the universe. If a human poet could become its puppet, scribbling away at a crazy metaphorical dragon-to-gold scheme, why couldn’t a scholar, working diligently to translate and make sense out of the poem?
I had a moment’s pang for all those vessels of the universe, toiling at what must have seemed to others like mad whims.
Caleb continued. ‘What I do know so far is that the ritual we’ll do involves the sea, and fire. At the end of all this stuff, the bones are going to yield a stone. Then we have to get ahold of the White itself and use the stone on him. The stone will transmute the White’s essence, and I’m thinking it’s going to take it into itself.’
‘Wait,’ I interrupted. ‘Whose essence? The White’s? Or Anyan’s?’
‘It has to be the White’s. This is about the dragon, not about Anyan.’
I had more questions, but Caleb kept talking.
‘It’s that stone that we use to tackle the dragons,’ the satyr said. ‘Through that stone, we destroy first him, then her. But first we have to figure out how to extract the stone from the White’s bones. So while I work out the details of the ritual, you need to get the bones.’
I opened my mouth to ask my questions but Ryu got there first.
‘And how are we supposed to separate the two dragons? We can’t have the Red flying about while we try to murder her mate.’
Caleb shrugged. ‘You’ve got to figure that part out while I translate and cross-reference the rest of this poem.’
‘Oh, we do, do we?’ Ryu asked, clearly irritated with Caleb’s high-handedness.
‘Wait,’ I said, before Caleb started apologizing. ‘I have a question.’
Both Caleb and Ryu turned to me.
‘What happens to Anyan in all of this? Does he survive?’
Caleb chewed on his bottom lip – not a good sign. When he finally spoke, he used his ‘confident healer’ voice. I imagined it was the voice he used to tell patients that they were probably dying, but still in good hands.
My lungs were suddenly too small, and I felt a sweat break out over my body.
‘To be honest, I don’t know, Jane. I really don’t. From what I’ve translated so far, the poem is only about killing the White, not saving a host.’
Caleb was clearly able to read the expression on my face.
‘You know we’ll do our best, Jane. We all want him back, too.’
I nodded, but I knew the truth. Despite the fact they didn’t want it to be so, everyone else understood that killing the Red and the White had to take precedence over saving Anyan.
At least everyone did but me.
Chapter Ten
‘You gonna be okay?’ Ryu asked, his voice laced with concern.
To be honest, I wasn’t sure about that one. We were standing in the last place I’d ever wanted to see again – the high cliff in Whitby where the ruins of the abbey had once stood. Now those ruins were really ruined, and half of the cliff had tumbled into the sea. The small cottages that had sat next to the abbey were burned-out husks.
And the soil here was soaked with the blood of the Original, Blondie, who’d died in Magog’s arms just about where I was standing. It was also the last place I’d seen Anyan, as Anyan, before his body had been hijacked by the White.
Ryu came and stood next to me, putting an arm carefully around my shoulders. It wasn’t an entirely unwelcome gesture, not least as it kept me from absconding to swim my cares away in the ocean behind me.
I’d swum immediately upon getting to Whitby, but right now just about the only thing I could think to comfort me would be the sea.
Or Anyan
, I thought.
Stripped of his
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