Coracle, Chapter 8: Bread and Cheese

At least, Marda thought it was a dragon.

Like most people, she knew dragons existed. They’d been mentioned in stories since time out of mind—even the Savior had met one, and the first Knight to follow in the footsteps of Aldren, the Savior’s Companion, had been chosen by a dragon. But she’d never seen one, and somehow she’d thought they would be scalier. And bigger.

Not that the creature lifting its head to peer at her was small. It was as tall as a draft-horse, and that was plenty big for something with intelligent eyes. But she’d somehow expected a dragon to be more... imposing. The size of a building, maybe. Or even a small island. Plus, it was... well, it was furry. There were golden scales running along the length of its serpentine body, but it had a mane of soft curls the color of new cream, and that mane ran down its neck to puff out into a big collar of fur over its throat and shoulders. It had horns, the way dragons should, but they looked more like deer horns than big spiky dragon horns. And it had no wings at all.

When the dragon moved, though, it looked like water pouring down a creek. The sun flashed off its sides, and somehow the scales and the fur and the long lean body all made sense together in a way they didn’t when the creature was still. She’d never seen anything so graceful and yet so powerful, and suddenly she no longer questioned its dragonish credentials.

Coming to a halt before her, the dragon coiled its tail around its legs and purred, “Done looking?”

“I’m sorry!” Marda blushed. “I was staring, and I know it’s not polite. But you’re so beautiful!”

The dragon purred again. “I know.” It grinned, showing white teeth against a golden mouth. “So. Newest postulant to the Lighthouse?”

“I... yes? I mean, I’ve come to go to the school. To become an Outremer.”

The dragon bobbed its head in grave understanding. “Like so many before you. What’s your name, small child?”

“I’m Marda, sir. Marda Quincesinger.”

“Well, Marda Quincesinger, I am Aelionorinos, and you may call me that if you can pronounce it. Otherwise, I don’t know what to tell you. All the successful postulants manage my name.”

It was an impossible name, and just like the dragon: long and beautiful and impossible to believe.

“Go on, then,” the dragon said. “Give it a try.”

“Ail... ael ee.... ae lee...”

“Oh dear,” the dragon murmured.

Embarrassed, Marda said, “Maybe you could say it again?”

“I could,” said the dragon, but it sounded so doubtful, and so pitying, that she suppressed the sudden need to cry.

“Maybe I should just go home now, then.”

The dragon nodded sadly. “Maybe.”

“Will the coracle take me back?”

“Oh, certes, certes. You just need to climb back into it, you know.”

The thought of returning to her family a failure was upsetting. But no one would have set a dragon to guarding the entrance to the school if they hadn’t intended it to be some sort of test. Marda said, “I... don’t suppose I could keep trying?”

The dragon brightened. “You could, I suppose. It may take you a while.”

“Ail...”

“No, no.”

“Ah lee...” She stopped herself this time and scowled. “This may take a while. Do you mind if I sit?”

“Oh no, not at all. I could sit with you, if you like.”

“All right,” Marda said, and dropped onto the grass. She set her basket in her lap and tried the name again. The dragon shuddered delicately at that attempt, and her next one too. Marda didn’t even notice when it sat behind her and curled its long body around her, or that the dragon’s face was as long as her arm and it was right next to her. It had such soulful blue eyes, the color of an afternoon sky in spring, and it seemed very willing to listen to all her fumbling attempts, though it never repeated its name.

Eventually Marda got hungry and opened her basket. Looking down into it, she said, “I don’t guess dragons eat bread?”

“Dragons love bread!”

Marda really looked at Aelionorinos the Dragon, who was, after all, the size of a draft horse with a face as long as her arm and no doubt an appetite to match. She also noticed that he’d somehow ended up snuggled against her. Surely having that many teeth so close to her should have frightened her, but what she mostly felt was dismay because she couldn’t imagine sating a dragon’s hunger on what was left of her meal.

But the Savior had fed the hungry with the last of her food, and the saints who’d come after her in their long ranks had claimed that the food of the spirit was better than any mortal bread. So Marda offered up the entirety of her remaining loaf to the dragon. “Here, you’d better take this, then. It won’t even make a dent in your appetite, but it’s better than nothing!”

The dragon’s eyes widened, their golden lashes sparkling. And then it smiled. “Thank you. But since it won’t make a dent, why don’t you save some for yourself?”

“Are you sure?” Marda asked. “I fed some crows on the way here, I don’t see why I shouldn’t feed a dragon too.”

“I’m sure.”

She nodded and broke off a piece of the bread for herself before handing the rest to the dragon, who had hands that were not as imposing as a building-sized dragon’s would have been, but were quite big when compared to Marda’s. She also shared the rest of her cheese, and the peas, the long carrots, and the toasted pecans. The dragon politely refused her milk, so Marda drank that alone, and soon there was nothing in her basket but crumbs.

“Try my name again,” the dragon said, head on its curled forelimbs.

“Ah... aehl... oh, it’s no use. I don’t remember it at all.” Marda sighed. She stood, brushing the grass and dirt off her skirts. “I’m sorry to have wasted your time—”

“Aeeeellllleeee,” sang a voice from up the path. “Aeeeelllleee, I’ve got honeycomb for you—” A girl appeared, a slim, athletic girl Marda’s age, but silvery-skinned with the bright spots of one of the Racers, and at the sight of the tableau she stopped abruptly. “Aeli! You are not teasing another new kid, are you?”

The dragon had heaved itself to its feet at the first call and was now hanging its head bashfully. “Well....”

The girl gasped. “You are such a terrible welcome dragon!” She marched to it and put her hands on her hips. “Would serve you right if this honeycomb never came out of my backpack.”

“I do love honey,” the dragon said with a sigh.

“You mean I don’t have to go?” Marda interrupted.

“Of course you don’t!” The new girl stomped a foot. “Aeli likes to prank the new people. I’ve only been here a week and I’ve seen him do it six times! That’s why I come down here half the time, to make sure he hasn’t sent some poor kid on a quest for chamomile flowers, or made them recite the first two hundred saints from memory.”

Marda blinked a few times, then said, “Why do you come the other half of the time?”

The girl grinned at her. “Because I get to pet a dragon.”

Marda blurted a laugh.

“But!” the girl added, scowling ferociously at the dragon, “you certainly haven’t earned it today!”

The dragon laughed too, a surprising sound like tiny chiming bells. “You’re right, Postulant Evie. I have been awful. And to someone who so kindly offered me her last loaf of bread.” It inclined its head to Marda. “I apologize, Marda. I didn’t think you would take me so seriously.”

“It’s all right,” Marda said. “I think. Pranking is pretty mean.”

“It’s completely mean.” Evie smacked the dragon lightly on the side. “You should confess in the chapel and ask the saints to help you stop.”

“I would if I could fit into the chapel!”

“Excuses, excuses.” Evie shrugged her backpack off and took out a jar. “Just for that, I’ll make you lick it out yourself.”

“Woe!” the dragon cried. “I am justly punished for my sins.” It pulled the jar closer. “Thank you for the gift. And for the meal, Marda Quincesinger.”

“You’re welcome,” she said.

“Come on,” Evie added. “I’ll show you around.”

Marda hurried after the other girl and glanced once over her shoulder. Aeli was struggling to open the jar with hands far too large for it. “You don’t think we should at least open it?”

“Oh, goodness, no.” Evie laughed. “Aeli likes puzzles. Half the fun of it will be figuring out how to open it.”

Drawing abreast of the girl, Marda added, “Can you say its name?”

“Aelionorinos!” Evie said with a wink, “But it took me four days.”

“Four days!”

“Yeah. Two days to get it right, and two days to realize no one uses it!”