Graymore is a dragon hunter. Natalie Yacobson
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On the lid of the medallion hung symbols like those scrawled on the ground.
«Will I see you again?» Graymore asked as Donata stood up and walked out of the arches into the city at the sound of singing. The singers were out of sight, but the song was pouring forth.
«It is quite likely!» Donata lifted her green hem, stepped over the line on the ground, and disappeared as if she had never been there.
Ghosts of Rain
The rain began suddenly. Graymore hadn’t expected the downpour to catch her on her way. Her clothes and hair immediately got wet, and it was raining cats and dogs. At home, the princess was accustomed to travel in carriages or palanquins, but now she had not even brought a walking tent. She would have to do without it.
«A little more, and the trip to the dragon will cost me a cold,» the princess dismounted and left the horse under a sprawling oak tree. «Hold it right there, Maverin!»
The stone city was still visible in the distance. One could go back to it and hide there under the archway. Only it was scary to go back. The arches would start collapsing again, and the stone statues would come to life. The half-human, half-dragon figures had an ominous look.
The skeleton counselor advised Graymore to bring along a sort of fringed awning, stretched on long spokes. The contraption resembled a ladies’ sun umbrella. Now Graymore tried to unfold it and could not. Apparently, the spokes were rusted from the moisture. And the rain kept getting heavier.
Now would be the time to find the dragon’s cave and finally defeat the proverbial dragon. Graymore was already hissing at him with anger. Dragons were usually quick to fall for her summons. As soon as the fiery beasts sensed her aggression, they burst out of hiding. Another dragon was cunning. He hid. To challenge it to open combat would seem next to impossible. She wished she could find his lair! He must have a cave or grotto, or even a swamp, somewhere. Most dragons made their nests in the mountains, but there were also some at the bottom of large lakes, in peat bogs, in mounds, in gorges, and even in the sea. Graymore has captured dozens of dragons, maybe even hundreds. Thanks to her excitement as a dragon hunter, Livellin’s coffers have been enriched by tons of gold and precious stones. Even if the last dragon she did not capture was not the richest, she would not be disappointed. She has already brought fame and fortune to her kingdom. She is a heroine! Should she fear the rain?
Suddenly voices called out from the thick rain:
«Graymore! Graymore! Graymore!»
The princess was alarmed. Had they called her by name? Or had Donata conjured it.
In the rain ghosts Graymore did not believe, although frightening stories were told about them. Allegedly, people who encountered them were found strangled on the road. The impression was that the unfortunate people had drowned, even though the bodies of water were far from the place where the corpse lay. The last time some peasant woman was found on the road many miles from the well. She looked like a drowned woman, though it was dry land.
Graymore knew that drowned people could be found in a deep river or in the sea, but not in the middle of a stone city or a drought-stricken field. It is hard to believe that rain that has passed, could leave behind the bodies of drowned men. But eyewitnesses who have watched from their windows assure us that the ghosts of rain cause everyone who happens to be outside to drown in the downpour.
Somehow that sounds too fantastic! To be on the safe side, Graymore fumbled for her dagger on her belt.
«Do you believe in rain ghosts, Maverin?»
The horse roared longingly, as if sensing trouble.
Graymore was more self-assured. She’s the kind of heroine who can ride around without an entourage, being the princess of the richest kingdom. Everyone knows it is impossible to kidnap or kill her. After all, her self-igniting blood will ignite if cut and burn her attackers. So no conspirators wishing to deprive her of her throne would surely send a regiment of assassins after her. They know that such tactics will not work. If Graymore smells danger and cuts herself with a dagger, a drop of her blood will set the whole squad ablaze. After all, her blood is enchanted.
Perhaps it is no surprise that a girl whose destiny is to hunt dragons has blood of fire. Flaming blood can serve as a weapon of self-defense. Now, if the rain ghosts appear, Graymore will cut her finger with a dagger, and a drop of her blood will cause a flame to burst into flames. The rain ghosts will dry up.
«That is my tactic!» Graymore brings the blade of her dagger over her little finger with a triumphant look. «Come out of the rain!»
No one responded. For a while all that could be heard was the rustling of the rain’s trickles. It resembled the murmuring of water in a fountain. There did seem to be a fountain in the stone city. Where had it come from? When she had entered the city of arches, there had been no fountain. What a miracle!
Graymore gazed out at the distant arches, and didn’t notice the transparent hand running through her hair.
«Graymore! Your name means – the test of love!» A voice whispered excitedly through the rain.
A translucent face appeared in the streams of water, then several more faces. They laughed. Their laughter sounded like the rustling of water in a fountain.
«Come to us, princess!» The translucent figures surrounded Graymore. Their hands reached for her. They touched her clothes and stroked her hair.
«What a beautiful princess!» They whispered. «Let us take her to our king.»
«Get back!» Graymore pointed her dagger defiantly at her left hand. «Or you will all burn! My blood is fiery!»
The rain spirits laughed in unison. Their laughter resembled the sound of a torrent of water running over rocks.
«The water doesn’t burn!» They chanted together.
«Water is stronger than fire,» one particularly attractive spirit explained. He was translucent but seductive. «Fire goes out in water. Any dragon that doesn’t swim in the sea will drown.»
«Well, I’m no dragon!» Graymore swung her dagger.
«You are a dragon princess!» The rain spirits have determined.
«You are a slander!» Grahamore blushed at the suggestion. «I have nothing to do with these arsonists. On the contrary, I protect the whole realm from dragons. And you slander me for being in league with them!»
The Rain Spirits whispered for a long moment, and then one of them spoke up smartly:
«Being a dragon princess is not equal to being one with the dragons.»
«What does it mean?» Graymore was alarmed.
«It means having power over them.»
«To capture and destroy is my influence!» With aplomb Graymore declared, but she thought to herself that it was more likely that the dragons had leverage over her. She thought to herself that dragons had more of an influence on her than anything else, because if they ever got near her, her blood would burst into flames. The torment the princess endured was unbearable. The inner fire could only be compared to burning a witch at the stake. Perhaps she should ask the rain spirits why she burns inwardly as if she were a witch, barely smelling the dragons near her. The rain spirits seem all-knowing. They must know the answer. But what if for that she must first go to their king? Graymore weighed whether to ask them for interpretation, and the rain spirits kept whispering.
«Is it to hunt dragons or to love dragons? Which do you want more, fair princess?»
«Are you mocking me?» Graymore looked helplessly around at the translucent figures that surrounded her. More and more of them protruded from the rain. There seemed to be a legion of them.
«You could make a dragon army of your own, instead of exterminating them,» the spirits advised.
«There’s