The Long Way Home

“Shouldn’t have eaten all those goats,” Perrin muttered as Ember predictably got stuck halfway through the portal.

While his head and front paws were on the gravel road leading up to the castle, the rest of him was still firmly planted outside his cave, wings flapping helplessly in the air to create enough momentum to pop him through.

“Just make it bigger, you daft old wizard.” The dragon’s voice echoed through the portal, as if he spoke underwater.

“Don’t you think I would have if I could? There are limits to these things, you know.” Perrin put his shoulder to the dragon’s hind leg and pushed. “Tuck that belly in, and we’ll be there in time for dinner.” He dug his heels in, putting all his weight into it. “I hope you like seafood.”

“Are you calling me fat?” The flick of the tail almost knocked Perrin over. “And, stop that. It tickles!”

“Just get through!”

They kept struggling even after it was obvious this dragon wouldn’t pass through this particular portal. Ember having given Perrin several reminders of just how colourful the dragon’s vocabulary could be.

“So, what’s plan B?” Ember asked after they both sat down, exhausted, and the portal had dissolved.

“That was plan B. And A and C.”

“Ah,” his tail flickered once in disappointment, then his tongue lolled out. “We still have time to think of something else.”

“Time?” Perrin’s voice sounded a lot shriller than he liked, as he opened the tome again to see what was going on in Middletown. The sizable group of armed men had already left and were marching along the dwindling road leading up the mountain. They were singing.

He groaned and snapped the tome shut.

“You mentioned dinner. Am I correct that you’re hungry right now?” A claw playfully poked him in the stomach. “You always go into the most foul and depressing moods when you don’t get your snacks.”

Well, the dragon wasn’t wrong, per se. Starvation didn’t exactly bring out the best in him.

“Dinner? They’re on their way here. Should take them a couple of hours or so? We need to…”

“...feed you. And me.” The claw went back to tap his stomach. “We’ll think better on full stomachs, am I not right?”

“You are. It’s just… I’ve never been particularly fond of goat meat… and I don’t see any around anyway.”

The dragon gave him a sly look, tongue lolling longer than ever.

“It’s been some time since we both had our favorite dinner. Remember how and what we used to hunt?”

“You mean…” A grin split Perrin’s face as a spark of excitement returned to his chest. Snow Elk. The best meat he’d ever tasted. Plentiful in their remote world, non-existent in this. Not that they’d ever let that small detail stop them.

“I’m ready if you are.”

“Fine.” Moments later, Perrin pulled the right page up and located a herd of pale elk, each one twice as high as a tall human. He scribbled the portal rune, and as soon as it appeared, Ember’s head and neck went inside, fast as a cobra. There was a screech followed by a terrible crunching as well as the sound of hundreds of hooves galloping away across the frozen ground.

Success!

“We’re quite the team, aren’t we?” Ember pointed out as he used a claw to cut out a generous part of tenderloin. “But I guess your teeth are still weak.”

“My teeth are in excellent shape – for a human. But, yes, that’s still the best bit for me.”

“Raw or cooked?”

“Cooked, of course.” He quickly gathered whatever sticks and dry grass he could, making an impromptu fireplace, which Ember set ablaze with a coughed-up spark. A thin flat rock turned into a cooking plate, and soon the scent of grilled meat filled the air. But, as delicious as it smelled, Perrin couldn’t fully enjoy it; the image of the approaching small army rested too heavily on his mind.

“Embermere, we need to come up with something. We don’t have all that long.” Why was the dragon so infuriatingly calm?

“You’re not thinking straight. The solution is obvious,” he sniffed, a gush of smoke forming a gray cloud between them. “I blame your empty stomach for not thinking of it first. Makes your brain not work properly.”

“Huh? What was that?” But the dragon ignored him, munching down the elk in a few large bites. By the worlds, he could be annoying at times.

"Just trust me."

"Fine." For now. 

The meat was ready not long after, and Perrin was comfortably seated, leaning against the dragon’s front leg, carefully nibbling it, trying not to burn himself. It tasted even better than he remembered. Better than anything the chefs in the castle ever made. It tasted of forgotten times, of past adventures. Perhaps even of things to come.

“This was a good idea. But now I’d like to hear your plan for your dashing escape. Our dashing escape.”

“You may have that fancy book of yours, not that it proved useful at all,” the dragon sniffed again, fixing a large amber eye on it. “And those tiny legs of yours. I, on the other hand, have these…” His wings unfolded and flapped once, sending Perrin’s floppy hat flying.

“You want to fly to the castle?” Perrin stared at him. Even when he was in his prime, that’d take… “That’d take weeks. Even the shortest route. Provided you can still fly for an entire day…” He looked pointedly at the rounded belly again.

“You’re in such a hurry to go home?”

“I have duties, as you well know. But, you’re right. Our main priority is to get you safely out of the area. Then we can make better plans.” He ripped a big chunk of the meat off with his teeth. It tasted even better now.

“When was the last time you saw the world, any world, through your own eyes? Not through that book of yours?”

“I’m not sure. Too long.” Years? Decades? He didn’t have to leave the comfort of the castle, and so hadn’t. The tome let him see whatever he wanted, besides work, and he had grown complacent. Thinking he was content.

Perhaps he wasn’t.

“Tell me,” the dragon’s snout hovered right in front of him, “the sacred fruits from the hanging gardens you always talked about… did you ever get to taste them?”

“No… not even CART’s masterchef can get his hands on those…” Oh, he remembered now. He’d been obsessed with the stories of the perfect fruits, plotting various ways of getting hold of one. Most involved pilfering…

“So, perhaps we take the long route to the castle. Enjoy the scenery…”

“The food…”

“The company…”

“I’d like that.” To his surprise, he would. He really would. He had his tome with him so he could deal with any emergencies. The castle could manage without him. Force some of the younglings to step up.

The sun was starting to set, but they sat in comfort, remembering some of their many adventures. Then Perrin swallowed the last of his dinner, wiping his greasy fingers on his robe. The marching song they’d been hearing for a while grew louder, together with the clanking of metal and the smell of torches.

It was time.

“You’re sure you can get off the ground?”

“Just get on, and you’ll see. What’s old age to a dragon?” Fine. Taking the route over a helpfully raised front leg, Perrin scrambled up onto the dragon’s back, patted his pockets to make sure everything was there.

“All set!”

Embermere, Retired Menace of Middletown, spread his wings and took a few steps before they flapped down hard. Once, twice… and they were in the air. Senior Cartographer Peregrin Penhaligon, Third Atlas Chair of the Consortium for Anomalous Realms and Territories, squealed in delight as they rose higher, one hand firmly keeping his hat in place.

But instead of heading away from the mountain, the dragon cirkled back, tongue lolling out. What was he…?

They made it back at the same time as the mismatched knights reached the plateau outside the cave.

“Hang on!” he bellowed as he went into a deep dive, causing the terrified men to throw themselves to the ground in a giant pile. The sound was very much like that of someone dropping a whole shelf of pots onto a stone floor.

As the first knight dared to look up, Ember made another dive, covering them in smoke. Perrin grinned. Back to fields with you, laddies.

"According to my records, there was never a dragon here. Just a bunch of fools,” he shouted, waving his hat at them. "Please direct any complaints to CART’s administrative office."

The looks on their faces were as priceless as he’d imagined, and he laughed heartily as Ember flapped his wings again, taking them away from the intended battlescene. Ember turned his head, looking just as smug as a dragon possibly could.

He was safe. The world spread out beneath them, with a colorful sky above. For the first time in forever, Perrin felt alive. Life was good. Truly good. Taking the long way home was the right thing to do. 

As much as he hated to admit it, reality, for all its faults, occasionally stumbled into getting things exactly right.

The end.