Quester turned and said, “Something up there?”
To deflect his attention, Shell said, “No, I was just thinking that climbing that hill might let us see what’s ahead, but it’s too high and steep.”
Without comment, Quester turned and continued. Shell fought to keep his eyes off the hillside but felt safer. After they had passed the location where the wolf hid, the newly found sensory detection told him that it too, was moving, but probably behind the hill to move where she would be out of sight. In time, she stopped again and took up a position ahead and waited for Shell to catch up.
“Hey, Quester, how big are most wolves?”
“Males usually weigh about as much as a woman, females a little smaller.”
“This one is bigger than average, right?”
“I’d say it’s on the large end, but not mystical or a freakish if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Shell hesitated, framing his next question. “Then why did you get so upset at the size of the footprints?”
“Being stalked by an animal that weighs as much as either of us, has forty-two teeth, and jaws that bite through bone without hesitation makes me feel nervous. Just having one lurking nearby scares me because I don’t know why it’s here, or why it follows us. If it was a small wolf, I’d still be upset at its actions.”
They entered an area of taller trees while Shell considered the information. The hills and valleys were green with them; the streams flowed faster and the water clearer than he’d seen at home. He didn’t correct Quester on the idea of it being mystical or a freak, which was an interesting choice of words because they almost explained what Shell believed. How else would you describe a wolf that communicated mentally and offered protection?
Shell said, “We don’t have wolves where we live, at least not many, but from what little I know, they’re usually in packs.”
Quester shrugged. “Not always. Some take off on their own.”
“Hunting in a pack would be more effective.”
“You’re right if the pack is bringing down a large animal. The pack can direct the target to one lying in wait, but a single animal doesn’t need the quantity of meat a whole pack does. Rabbits, squirrels, and other small animals will do fine.”
“For someone asking basic questions about wolves, you sure seem to know a lot.”
The laughter from Shell came quickly and naturally. “I’ve heard tales of wolves my whole life, and I know there are different kinds. I wondered what kind you had where you lived.”
Instead of getting upset, as others might, Quester nodded in agreement. He muttered, “A smart way to gain information about me.”
The slopes of Bear Mountain appeared to be right ahead, but Shell knew it was still a few days away, but he had another decision to make soon, another choice between two things. The regular roads and routes around the mountain lay to the north where most people traveled, but his objective was the southern slopes for two reasons. The first was that he’d asked the family messengers where to find the dragon lair. The second was that the Bear Mountain Family of the Dragon Clan lived to the south of the mountain, close enough to the lair that they could walk there.
While he didn’t know exactly where the Clan lived, that information should get him close, and he knew they would have lookouts watching for strangers. Once close, he only had to expose himself, and when the lookouts intercepted him, he would lift his shirt and identify himself. That had always been his plan.
But now he had Quester with him. By family law, he couldn’t take him along. There were substantial rewards for information about the Dragon Clan offered by the crown. Even though the Earl of Warrington now supported the Clan and offered a measure of protection, the King’s coin held true in any part of the kingdom.
Worse, Shell had been raised on the grasslands, well away from the political intrigue and dangers of those Family members living in close proximity to the general population. He’d heard the stories and tales, but they were like bedtime stories, barely real and often misunderstood by himself. He needed someone like Quester who had lived in a similar situation.
However, if he showed up at the Bear Mountain Dragon Clan encampment with Quester, neither of them might survive. If Shell did manage to live, he would certainly be shunned and driven from the village in shame.
While he thought, his mind told him where the wolf was, always. Now and then he stole a glance and found a flash of brown, or a shrub move, confirming his knowledge that it was where he believed.
Then, near mid-day, as he was thinking of eating a strip of venison and taking a break, he felt an odd sensation. A tickle touched his back as soft as a baby’s cheek.
Instantly, he knew it for what it was. The touch of a dragon. He’d heard of the sensation a hundred times, but never experienced it. For whatever reason, the only dragon he’d ever seen hadn’t affected him in that way. But this touch, tickle, contact, or signal hadn’t existed in his experience.
The image of a dragon on his back had been there since birth, of course, as it was on all Dragon Clan. But until today he had never felt the sensation others spoke of that said a dragon was near. While he might describe it as a tickle, that description might be confused with another sensation it was not. He knew that because the tickle conformed to the dragon on his back.
He’d seen his birthmark reflection in water and polished metal, a hundred times. Even if he had not, he would have recognized the image reflected now on his back, the gaping jaws, the claws, and the outline that started below his neck and went to his waistband.
All that aside, the most striking thing about the tickle is it turned stronger, almost into an itch with a touch of pain. He knew when he raised his eyes to the far mountains a dragon floated lazily on the wind currents. It was too far away to make out details, but the wings flapped slowly, and the dragon peered into the distance to its side, seemingly looking directly at Shell.
His emotions soared, his anticipation of seeing nearby dragons an emerging reality, and he realized he’d been holding his breath. Shell slowly let it escape, then wondered if Quester had noticed anything odd in his actions. That was the danger of traveling with someone not of the family. A simple reaction could give away his secret.
When his eyes fell on Quester, who was still walking ahead, the man’s head was held erect, his neck pink with a flush, his fingers curled as if ready to fight, and his head was raised to the heavens. He was also looking at the barely visible dragon. His left hand reached behind himself and touched his back.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The simple action of reaching behind to touch his back, as a dragon appeared, told Shell all he needed to know, and it answered a hundred questions. Quester was Dragon Clan. No doubt about it. He was trying to hide his secret from Shell, just as Shell hid his.
That’s why he kept moving this way for two years. That’s why he agreed with me to find the dragons. Now that he knew about Quester, how should he proceed? Shell and his entire family believed they lived the farthest away from other families. None of the Dragon Clan messengers ever mentioned traveling farther west to pass on information about Breslau. They had always indicated they would return to their homes after visiting the grasslands. That led Shell to believe they didn’t know about a family further away.
It also said Quester was family, somehow related, and with the same powers. That hinted that there were more Dragon Clan to the east and that direction might be a haven if the Breslau invasion was successful.