Lenna and the Last Dragon by James Comins

  Chapter Four

  The Pit of Old Magic

  or, Let Go of My Ankle

  Sunlight streamed from the turning halo-wheel of the new sun. Shielding her face with a hand, Lenna looked around to see the new Iceland by day. A series of staircases ran up domed hills, one staircase after another, connected in arches across the expanse by delicate fairy-bridges held up by fluted white columns. The empress was still scurrying delightedly across the cottony flats. Blinking in the morningness, Lenna saw that Brugda was studying her.

  “What?” Lenna mumbled, yawning.

  “Name the flavor of this world.”

  “Shiny?” She pushed her arms out and arched her back. The strappy green dress felt strange, but it wasn’t grimy or sticky the way it ought to be after a night.

  “What makes it so?” Brugda probed.

  The world around them flew by in glorious colors. “Everything’s a little bit perfect,” said Lenna.

  “Our mother likes things orderly,” Brugda said cryptically. Lenna tried scraping sleepy-seeds from her eyes, but she didn’t find any.

  “What’s the Pit of Old Magic?” she asked.

  “Patience holds that answer.”

  So Lenna took the hint, shut up and observed the world.

  Diamond water flowed uphill to the tops of cliffs and fell back down into the shining pools that fed them below.

  Fields of spiral grain stood, the last of the winter harvest.

  A distant village had polished silver pagodas for roofs.

  Red floating balloons carried travelers.

  The liquid branches of a stand of mercury trees draped upwards, as if reaching for the sun. Lenna watched her reflection in the metal trees bend and shift as they swayed in the brushing brushing wind.

  “Look,” said Talvi, pointing. “There’s a sight. It seems closer than it is.”

  Lenna struggled to focus her eyes. The flat snowy plain of central Iceland had a smudge. It was a black pit surrounded by a circle of vibrantly green grass. The pit had something sticking out of the middle.

  As they got closer, she could better see the thing sticking out of the pit. It was a brown column, plunging up into the sky from inside the circular darkness. Two, no, three branches or roots or arms stuck out upward from the top of the column. The arms were like antlers, or maybe the points of a crown, dangling out over the circular maw of the pit. The pit was vast, acres and acres around, fringed at the top with a ring of fresh green silk. It wasn’t perfect or shiny like the rest of the world. Was it a tree, an old-fashioned tree from dragon-land, planted upside down in a giant hollow in the world? Were those arm things the scraggly roots? It was the size of a castle, whatever it was. Two birds circled the thermals above it.

  “Ah,” sighed Brugda. “A steady pace brings far things near. Will the creature stay put as we look into the matter, child?”

  Binnan Darnan’s pointy nose poked above her seat. “Oh, I ‘spect so. It likes having a family to carry around. Get me an oilcan for it and it’ll fly us to the stars.”

  The empress slowed as it reached the green edge. Ahead, the silk field dropped off into darkness.

  “How exactly does the Pit of Old Magic work, Brugda?” asked Kaldi.

  “Once upon a yesterday, it was a proper stone well, the sort you draw water from. Small as you please, and you climbed down a chain,” she explained. “At the bottom, where water should be, there was a bright box and you asked a question by pressing letter-tablets. A computer.”

  Something hopped into Lenna’s mind. “From airplane-land,” she said.

  “Mm. Now it’s a tree.” Brugda stood as the empress halted.

  “This isn’t like any tree I’ve seen,” said Talvi.

  Lenna looked up at the handyman. Below his curly mass of auburn hair was a look of growing apprehension.

  Aitta saw, too. She pressed close to her husband and took his hand, squeezing his fingers, one two three four. “Gently,” she whispered. "The way of the world." Talvi looked at her and blinked uncomfortably with a look of recognition, as if a secret code had been revealed to him. Lenna watched the two, then looked back at the pit.

  “There was a chain leading down the middle of the well?” Lenna said.

  “That’s right,” Brugda replied.

  “Then it must be the tree that we climb down, Brugda. Instead of the chain.”

  Everyone looked out across the swallowing gap into darkness between the land and the far top of the upside-down tree.

  “Then we’re sunk,” said Brugda, and sat.

  Binnan Darnan climbed to the front of the empress and gripped the red taffrail. “Across, empress! We have faith in your legs!”

  “No.” Brugda clutched the seat in front of her.

  “Jump! I know you can do it!” Thrill zinged onto Binnan Darnan’s face. Her black hair was blown back as the huge wooden creature bent its knees at the lip of the pit and sprang. “Whee!” She held her arms up. The force of acceleration threw everyone back in their seats. The leap lasted seconds that felt like hours. The sun drew nearer. Lenna huddled, holding her arms against her eyes and holding her feet up off the floor. Landing jostled her. She found Brugda’s hand gripping her upper arm.

  Binnan Darnan beamed. “Here we are, mistress! Don’t you see what a beautiful creature we’ve found?”

  “Beauty is the greatest danger,” growled Brugda. “Well, we’re here. Get out and we’ll look.”

  They walked down the steps onto the brown surface of the upended tree. It was irregular and wavy, but firm. Lenna tiptoed to the edge, kneeled and peered over the side. Bark began a few feet down. “Binnan Darnan, can an empress climb?” she asked.

  The vehicle backed away a few steps. “I don’t think it likes that idea,” said Binnan Darnan. “Much weight for thin arms.”

  “Kaldi?” said Brugda. “You’ll go down with Lenna.”

  “Don’t much relish the idea either,” he replied, stretching his arms across his chest and leaning out to examine the sheer drop. “Is it safe?”

  “Of course it’s not safe,” Brugda snapped. “Now start climbing or think of another way.”

  “I hope the bark is strong,” Kaldi said as he folded his octagonal glasses onto his collar and swung over the edge. “It is,” he called. “It’s rough, easy to climb. Come, Lenna!”

  “Wait.” Brugda’s voice was abrupt. “No. Binnan Darnan goes.”

  “Why me? Why do I have to do everything?” she asked.

  “Decide quick! Hard for me to stay put if we plan on climbing back!” yelled Kaldi.

  “Binnan Darnan. You go.”

  “Okay.” Black lace bounced as she shrugged. She sat and scooted to the edge, where Kaldi held to a massive piece of stringy tree bark. “How do I get down?” she asked him. “Can you carry me?”

  “Take my hand, then grab ahold. No, oof, ahold of the bark. There. Reach with your foot, lower yourself down. There, and again. I’m right beside you. And ... down.”

  From what Lenna could see, Binnan Darnan was moving slower than a snail. Why couldn’t they hurry? They were going to fall. She knew they were. If they hurried ... if they hurried, they’d be safe. Kaldi was holding back. She could see it. Binnan Darnan was climbing too slow. She should have gotten down and climbed back to safety already. How hard could it be?

  In the slanted light of the polar sun, she couldn’t see a floor beneath the pit. However, farther into the shadowed gloom, she could see branches and maybe leaves as well. Brugda retreated to the center of the tree and sat with crossed arms and closed eyes. Aitta sat down beside her and held her hand. Lenna and Talvi leaned over the side like kittens watching a fish.

  Down and down and on they crept. Kaldi whispered encouraging things to Binnan Darnan, who moved even slower than before.

  When the giant red squirrel jumped out from the bole, Binnan Darnan let go. Kaldi was too slow to catch her. There were no branches to grab hold of. She fell, letting out the roar of a dragon.

  L
enna screamed.

  Binnan Darnan roared.

  A flurry of colors and the smell of magic. The floofy black dress transformed again and again, from black lace to servants’ brown to a T-shirt and jeans to a blouse and breeches to a puff of pink petticoats.

  Then, far below, she stopped shrieking and floated.

  “Brugda! What’s happening to me?” she called up.

  In an instant the thin red-gold hair and pink bonnet stared down at her.

  “I can see the top of the tree, but I’m not getting any closer,” Binnan Darnan shouted.

  “You’ve crossed the barrier to the old magic, child! Reach the bark and climb!” Brugda shouted back.

  “It’s too far away!”

  Binnan Darnan floated in midair in Victorian petticoats and high-heeled pink shoes, ten or twenty feet out from the tree and far below the level of the green land around the pit. Swimming didn’t help; she flapped and wiggled but didn’t get anywhere. Kaldi looked stricken and rushed down the bark toward her. The giant squirrel chattered and zipped around to the far side of the trunk. Then the shaking began.

  Shuddering ran through the tree, sending everyone at the edge scrambling back to safety. Kaldi desperately gripped a shaggy piece of bark, but it was tearing away. Lenna held to Brugda’s ankle as the tree tipped.

  A roar boomed like a stopper pulled from a genie’s bottle, schraaaaank. And another roar, schriiiiiink. The second sound was familiar. Lenna’s thoughts cleared above the fear. “There’s a dragon in the tree!” she shouted. “She’s talking to it!”

  “Yes,” replied Brugda. “Let go of my ankle.”

  More dragonvoice echoed up. The tree was wobbling only gingerly now. Lenna planted her feet and put out her hands for balance. She tottered to the edge and lowered herself, lowered herself down to look over the side.

  Binnan Darnan sat crosslegged on the massive scaled palm of a yellow-green dragon. Its arm stretched out from a newly-made hole in the trunk. Kaldi waited nearby, clutching a piece of bark. The little girl and the secret dragon chatted in terrible shrieks. Far above them, Lenna leaned closer, wishing wishing wishing she understood.

  “Brugda!” said Lenna. “They’re coming up!”

  “Stand beside me, then. I’ll teach you a kiss-me-quick. Fill your mind with a vision. See them reaching safety. Their feet there, beside you. Faces here. Make the sight as clear as you can. Hold the vision, tight tight. Clasp your hands. Say:

  Kast minn baen

  Ad himnariki

  Tak hugmynd hedan

  Lenna repeated it. When they unclasped their hands, the world became briefly touched, as if a hot day was fizzling the air above a stovetop. A ripple spread outward to the edge of sight.

  “Now what?”

  “Patience,” said Brugda. “Even magic won’t bring them to the top instantly.”

  When she reached the top, Binnan Darnan’s dress had returned to black lace. The little girl ran over to Lenna. They were both smiling. “I haven’t lost my voice, Lenna! I only misplaced it.” She turned. “Brugda, have you heard?”

  “Oh, I heard,” sighed Brugda.

  “I have both gifts!” said Binnan Darnan. “Now I can’t wait for another shift and another gift!”

  “Patience, child. I don’t suppose you thought to ask the creature which Power sent the black dragon to attack our house?”

  “Yes, of course,” Binnan Darnan replied. “Only it sounded like it was in a different language. The dragon said, ‘byo go joe, hall a weer, keer noo yashkar, shay is kay.’ What does it mean?”

  An expression appeared on Brugda’s face, one that Lenna had never seen before. She wasn’t sure what kind of expression it was.

  “A riddle,” said Brugda in an odd tone of voice to match her odd expression. She repeated it:

  Beo go deo

  Thall an Mhuir

  Cuir na Iascaire

  Sé fhios cé.

  “It’s in the language of Ireland. It means, ‘Alive forever beyond the sea. Ask the fisherman, he knows who.’ Ask the fisherman. Mm. Trust no dragon for a useful answer.”

  “Who’s the fisherman?” asked Lenna.

  “I have no idea. That’s a dragon for you. Worse than cats. Repeat it again.”

  Binnan Darnan sounded out the strange words. Wind spun around her as she recited them.

  “Remember them,” said Brugda. “They will prove themselves before the end.”