White Dragon's Chosen Page 4

CHAPTER 4

  Dragons Attack

  George re-read the letter three times before it was time for dinner. Dinner turned out to be a frozen TV-dinner and skim milk for both himself and Harry; not very exotic considering the momentous revelations of the day, other than the interesting fact that the dinners were almost instantly prepared by the kitchen elf table. Conversation was kept to a minimum, while George remained occupied by the contents of his mother’s letter, which he reviewed over and over in his mind.

  It was Uncle Harry, rather than George, who finally broke the silence after eating was complete. “I take it that Joan explained some things in the letter?”

  “I don’t want to be the Chosen One, whatever that is,” George replied, with conviction. "I don't want anything to do with Evil, or someone called the Dark One, or even dragons."

  “Can’t say that I blame you. I didn’t either. What cinched it for me was the thought that there is no escaping it, ultimately. The Dark One, if and when he comes, will kill us all weather we want him to or not, and some of the others in his Horde are nearly as dangerous. Be sort of nice for all of humanity not to be killed off though, and a lot of smart folk from Narma think that the Chosen One is our only hope of avoiding that.”

  “That’s crazy. I’m just a kid.”

  “And you might not even turn out to be the Chosen One. For years, I thought it would be me, but I’m old as the hills now, so evidently it isn’t me. Might be you, might not. Plus the whole damn Chosen One Prophesy might be just a lot of wishful thinking.”

  “Who is the Dark One?”

  “More of a ‘what’ than a ‘who’. It’s a big bad black dragon, as far as I can tell.”

  “A dragon! But you haven’t even seen it?”

  “No. Not many see him and live to tell about it, unless they are part of his Horde.”

  “Maybe it’s only a myth.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “A black dragon that’s bad? That’s a cliché. I suspect that someone is putting you on.”

  “I wish it were so, but it isn’t myth, it’s real. Perhaps the myth and cliché arose from reality.”

  “You believe that dragons are real?”

  “Oh, I know that dragons are real.”

  “Because you’ve seen dwarves and elves?”

  “Partly. But mostly because I’ve seen dragons.”

  “On Narma?”

  “And Earth.”

  George frowned. “I don’t see how dragons could possibly go unnoticed here on Earth.”

  “You reason that if they existed on Earth, everyone would know it?”

  “I like things I believe in to make sense. I just don’t see how dragons could possibly go unnoticed here. Dragons are huge and noisy and so forth, right?”

  Harry laughed. “You’d be surprised. Dragons have powers that help them go quietly unnoticed. Perhaps they couldn’t live for countless millennia without having such powers. If a dragon doesn’t want to be found, it’s about impossible even for another dragon to find them.”

  “They can hide like trolls can?”

  Harry shook his head. “Trolls and even elves don’t even come close. Unicorns come closest to matching up to dragons in many ways, but for pure power nothing in the known Multiverse quite matches a full grown dragon.”

  “Wait a minute; unicorns are real too?”

  Harry again laughed. “Lots of folks are real, in this and in other universes.”

  “This is way too weird.”

  “You’ll get used to it. For a while you’ll have school and friends and other ordinary things to keep you well grounded.”

  “You don’t even have a TV, do you?”

  “No, but we’re getting one soon. It’s all been planned out. Going to be one of those big-screen jobs; high-def, coupled with a decent sound system. No 3-D or any of that other malarkey though.”

  “So you’ve got everything worked out, you and my folks. But what if I simply don’t go for it?”

  Harry shrugged. “Ultimately that’s up to you of course, but hopefully by the time you fully come of age you’ll have taken over for me fully. By then we should know if you’re the Chosen One or not. Maybe much sooner we'll know.”

  “Swell. Sounds like you have my life all figured out for me."

  "I'm just being honest about things, George."

  "I could always run away.”

  “That’s also ultimately up to you," said Harry. "I wouldn’t stop you. You’re a clever fellow; you might be able to pull it off for a while. You might live a more or less normal life for many years, if that’s what you want. With your special abilities you would probably flourish. But you’d very likely at some point die along with everyone else if you turn your back on our little Narma issue. Apocalypse could happen this year or next or a hundred years from now but it will happen, the way things stand now. Bad guys and Evil won't go away simply because you're ignoring them. Is running away what your Mom suggested that you do in her letter?”

  No, but George didn’t feel like sharing details of the letter, even with Harry. “That’s a really long story. Complicated. I wouldn’t want your head spinning like a top; maybe in a few months I’ll be able to explain it all better to you.”

  “Touché,” said Henry with a smile. “To tell you the truth, I’m depending a lot on your natural curiosity to keep you here.”

  “I’m curious all right, but I’m also terrified. OK, you’ve told me a lot I guess, but there’s a lot more that you haven’t told me. If I’m going to dedicate my life to something, I deserve to know more, and I need to know more. Plus, I have to see more for myself, if I’m going to even believe it.”

  “Agreed, but only when you’re ready. There are many things not even me or the elves understand. And there are things I could tell you that could endanger us all immediately. Secret things.”

  “We need to trust each other.”

  “I trust you, but it’s not simply a matter of trust. Trust me on that.”

  George sighed. “Swell. Can I go next door to visit Mary and Johnny now?”

  “I’d actually rather you didn’t tonight. There’s something that’s been bothering me. When did you last see Jewel?”

  “Your wizard crow ally? Haven’t seen her since I got here this morning out by the street. I don’t know if she followed me any further or not.”

  “She didn’t, or I’d know about it. So why didn’t she, and why isn’t she here now? I’m a little puzzled and concerned that she hasn’t contacted me since yesterday. It’s not like her.”

  “What does that have to do with me going next door?”

  “Aside from my general concern that something could be very badly amiss, you shouldn’t go anywhere without protection. Jewel is usually a bit less obvious than Grog as a protector, though she’s thousands of times more powerful.”

  George’s eyebrows went up. The crow was thousands of times more powerful than Grog? “It’s only next door.”

  “Next door is literally half a universe away. But OK, as long as you go no further than their property, you can go. Their house and its surroundings are also warded against most things.”

  “Warded? As in a magic spell?”

  “Yes, but it isn’t fully effective against everything. Keep your eyes open. There could be great danger.”

  “OK, I won’t go beyond their yard and yours, and I’ll stay alert.”

  “And also accept this,” Harry said. He reached out and touched George gently on the forehead.

  George felt dizzy and disoriented for a moment, than he felt alright. It reminded him of his experience earlier with the alleged elves. “What did you do to me just now?”

  “I gave you a tiny bit of my own powers. I added to what the elves already gave you; it might help protect you. If you do see Jewel, ask her to come see me?”

  “Sure.” Tell a bird to go have a talk with Harry? Why not?

  The walk through the front yard jungle path was uneventful. George was a bit disa
ppointed that not even an ant attempted to block the path, but there was still about two hours more of daylight remaining and at least there were a lot of birds, bees, and other things to see. When he got to the front gate he noticed that the neighborhood beyond looked different somehow. Everything beyond the fence looked dull, as if it were lacking something.

  It took him a minute to realize what it was. His special sort of vision-like capability had gained further acuity. Within Uncle Henry’s property he could sense a subtle aura that also extended to the neighboring property, but was absent beyond their borders. As he focused more on it, it appeared as a pinkish haze, and he thought that he saw it move slightly where he was staring at it. With more focus and concentration, he caused a solid ball of pink the size of a baseball to form. He laughed as it dissipated again. He had some control over it, whatever it was!

  Mary and Johnny were in their wide front yard, tossing a football back and forth. Mary tossed it competently to George when she saw him coming and he caught it awkwardly. George felt a little uncomfortable. He could ‘get by’ when playing such sports, but they weren’t high on his list of interests and he tended to avoid them when he could.

  “Hit me, George,” shouted Johnny, “I’m going long!” He ran away full-tilt, rapidly moving out of range.

  This was yet another male-male thing, George realized. If he didn’t try to make the throw Johnny would say something that would make him look like a fool in front of Mary. If he did try, he’d probably look like a fool in front of both him and Mary anyway.

  George threw the ball as hard as he could towards Johnny. To his astonishment it sailed far over and beyond Johnny. It had to be the elf powers!

  “Holly shits!” exclaimed Johnny, who had stopped running to watch the ball fly past him, high overhead.

  “How on Earth did you do that?” asked Mary, while Johnny trotted across the next two yards to shag the errant ball.

  “Vitamins I guess,” George replied, as he approached Mary. “I’m sorry. I don’t do this very much, and I badly misjudged the distance,” he shouted to Johnny.

  “Only by 200% or more,” Mary estimated. “That ball flew well over a hundred yards.”

  George was intrigued that Mary had given percentage and yardage estimates for his throw. Most people would have simply said that he had thrown it too damn far and let it go at that. Mary definitely had an interesting analytical side to her, as well as incredible good looks.

  “Misjudged, hell!” exclaimed Johnny, as he jogged back carrying the ball. “You were showing off. But if I had an arm like that, I’d do the same thing. You should definitely drop track and go out for football. Skip J-V and go out for varsity. The guys won’t believe it! Coach will go ape-shit! I’ll make mega points with Eastern High society just by being the guy that discovered you.”

  “I don’t think so,” said George. “I prefer individual sports.”

  “Maybe we could go running together sometime,” suggested Mary.

  “Sure!” George replied.

  “Say, what ever happened to your glasses?” she asked. “Contacts?”

  “Sure,” said George, not knowing what else he could say that would make any sense.

  “That will be useful for football,” said Johnny. “Are you super-fast too? Is that why you want to go out for a namby-pamby thing like track?”

  George wasn’t sure anymore about anything he could or couldn’t do. “I do alright, speed-wise.”

  “Namby-pamby thing like track?” Mary snorted, confronting her brother. “I’d like to see YOU run a mile or more!”

  “Track is OK,” countered Johnny, “but it doesn’t have the star appeal of football. People don’t get multi-million dollar contracts for running a mile. Besides, most girls go ga-ga over football players. You should go out for both football and track.”

  “I just want to get through the ninth grade academically,” said George. “I do expect to take classes too, you know; that’s the main thing.”

  “Excellent point,” agreed Mary. “So you’re an academic as well as a jock. Start out with just track, then; that will take up more time than you think. You can always go out for football next year, if you think that you have the time.”

  “You’ll have the time,” said Johnny. “In the meantime while you use track to help get yourself into tip-top shape, you and I can work together on our football skills. By next year we’ll both knock them dead at try-outs. You can be the star quarterback and I’ll be the star wide-receiver.”

  George shrugged. “OK. Sounds like a plan.”

  “Alright!” said Johnny, as he gave George a firm comradely pat on the back.

  “How you doing with Harry?” asked Mary.

  “Fine. I think it will work out. He’s even getting a TV for me. I have a computer already, but I’ll need an internet connection.”

  “Cool,” said Johnny. “We have a wireless network router, and we aren’t very far from your place. We’ll fix it so you can use it too. You’ll get fast internet and we can do some gaming together in-network.”

  “You’re on,” agreed Johnny. Gaming was something he enjoyed well enough, when he wasn’t reading.

  “Your crow friend is acting totally weird,” said Mary, out of the blue.

  George followed her gaze to a tree that stood along the street. The big black crow sat watching them from a low branch. “What do you mean weird?”

  “It won’t go into your yard or come into this one. I even put out bread for it and it won’t come, and I used to feed it all the time. It’s acting extra snooty or something.”

  “Good riddance, I say,” said Johnny.

  “And that’s not all,” added Mary. “Even the other birds won’t eat my bread. In fact, all other birds seem to have completely deserted the entire neighborhood.”

  “OK,” said Johnny, “that IS weird.”

  “I should talk to the crow about it,” said George.

  Johnny looked at him like he was crazy.

  “Sure thing, George,” said Mary, with a smile. “You should set that crow straight!”

  “I’ve got a twenty-two rifle I could set it straight with,” said Johnny. He went through the motions of lifting, sighting, and firing an invisible rifle in the direction of the crow. “Bang, bang, bang!”

  “That’s Dad talking,” complained Mary.

  “Are my ears burning?” said a deep new voice, from towards the house.

  George turned to see a larger, smiling, middle aged version of Johnny approaching them with a confident walk. “I’m Trent Williams and you must be George,” he said, as he extended his open hand.

  “Yes sir, that would be me,” George responded. Mr. Williams had a very firm handshake, but George returned it in kind. The man was over twice his size, and seemed to be straining with all his might, but George very easily countered his squeezing, until the adult at last cut off the handshake with a big smile.

  “That’s quite a grip you have, young man. Do you work out?”

  “Does he ever!” said Johnny. “You should see him throw a football!”

  Mr. Williams continued smiling. “Football is it? Good to see someone normal moving in next door. I mean, your Uncle is a little eccentric. Maybe you living with him will change his views on a few things.”

  “I doubt it,” said George, who couldn’t decide if Mr. Williams’ toothy grin was a happy smile or a shark smile. Shark, probably. “He seems pretty set in his ways, and anyway he does a lot a neat things without changing his ways.”

  “I’ll tell you something neat," said Mr. Williams. "Three thousand an acre for logging rights for one year. That's over two million total! Final offer. Tell your uncle.”

  “What?”

  “I can make us both a nice bundle from logging the Simple property. Harry could make millions from developers by selling off most of his land, but he's dead-set against that. The logging would make him a lot of money without selling any land. His precious trees would grow back, eventually. Not
hing would be lost; it's win-win for everyone.”

  “OK, I’ll tell him," said George, "but he won’t listen.”

  “Neither will the crow,” said Johnny.

  “Crow?” Mr. Williams asked.

  “George was just about to talk to a crow,” explained Johnny, laughing.

  “Whatever warms your giblets,” said Mr. Williams. “I’ll leave you three to your juvenile shenanigans.” He almost reached to shake George’s hand again, then thought better of it and simply turned and walked back into the house.

  “Your Dad seems friendly enough,” said George.

  “He’s OK," said Mary, "as long as you don’t mind him trying to make some kind of a money-making deal with you practically every time you see him.”

  “So then, are you going to talk to the crow?” asked Johnny, smirking.

  “Sure. You guys stay here though; I don’t want to spook her.”

  George walked quietly towards the tree, sizing up the big black bird as he went. According to his new eyesight this was a Narma crow, all right. An ally and a wizard, Harry had said. He still didn’t like the way she looked though; he still sensed what could be a tinge of Evil around the bird. Remembering his promise to Harry, he stopped short of the edge of the warding spell, though the crow was perched a few feet outside the ward.

  “Greetings great wizard,” he said respectfully, quietly enough so that Mary and Johnny wouldn’t hear. “Harry asks that you go and see him.”

  “Kaaaaaaaaa,” answered the crow, but in George’s head very different thoughts formed. “SOON, HUMAN; I PROMISE. VERY SOON.” The voice in George’s head seemed impossibly vast, female, and cruel.

  “Harry seems worried.” George was becoming more than worried. Instinctively he stepped slowly back and further away from the crow. It may have been his imagination, but he thought he detected intensification of the Evil tinge around the creature.

  “Ka-Ka-Ka-Ka," the bird-thing replied, but in his head George heard laughter. “AK-AK-AK-AK, COME CLOSER LITTLE ONE, AND I WILL END ALL YOUR WORRIES,” it said. George’s legs suddenly felt numb and heavy as stone. Painful numbness shot up from his legs and climbed slowly up his back, and he found himself stepping slowly forward towards the crow. He tried with all his will to stop but couldn’t. Instead, step by step he walked towards what he suddenly sensed would be his death!

  George was almost to the very edge of the protective ward. He could see the ward clearly, as a dull warmish glow, like slightly pink fog. The wispy glow of the ward contrasted sharply with the course blackish tendrils that reached out from the crow, down the tree trunk, across a sidewalk and grass to his feet. Somehow the black cut right through the pink. From there the black had actually entered his legs and body.

  The pink seemed too thin, George thought, but if it were only thicker, it just might block the black. He focused as he had earlier, this time pulling the pink towards himself. Soon he was surrounded in pink and using it to push back on the black. It took monumental will, but his steps towards the crow stopped.

  “KKKAAA,” squawked the crow angrily, “DO NOT DEFY ME WITH YOUR PUNY ELF POWERS, FOOL MORTAL!”

  “Why are you doing this?” George asked. “I thought you were an ally of Harry.” He was drawing more and more pink to himself, and pushing the black out of yard with it. “What do you want?”

  The Crow flapped its wings. It began to fade, and in its place the form of a gigantic creature of some sort began to gradually congeal as misty shadow. “MY PATIENCE WANES, HUMAN,” it squawked, with a voice that pounded into Johnny’s head like thunder. “YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT. WHERE IS IT?” The black tendrils reaching out from the crow/creature thickened and began to move towards George again, steadily pushing back the pink. The crow was translucent now. In its place George thought that he glimpsed gigantic claws and a monstrous reptilian head with huge teeth, forming in the gathering mist.

  “WHERE IS THE EGG?” it demanded, splitting George’s head with soundless volume.