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Art Copyright © 2018 by Aliennor. All rights reserved.

Horse: A5552 Swimmin' In Nog
Show: Annual Dragon Hunt 2018 hosted by Nordanner
Reference: Freisian Canter Turn | Credit: Chunga-Stock (Lady Derpina)

Link to Second Image
Link to Third Image (Nordanner RNG Mini Show Submission)

Prompt: A very clever elderly dragon (possibly a Vrux) has kidnapped horsenapped one of the Queen's horses! Getting them back won't be easy - this dragon has set up various traps and chosen a maze-like cave system to hide in. Will you be able to rescue the horse in time before the dragon craves a snack?

Artist's Notes: this has been one of the most challenging art projects I've completed outside of school. I decided I wanted to do a jump scare scene where my MC and her horse run into the dragon while searching for the Queen's horse. In order to create a spooky scene, I sketched the picture in white on black (link to concept art ). Moving from my black and white sketch to a fully colored, painted illustration took me a total of four days with me on the verge of scrapping the whole thing. But I'm glad I stuck with it; I've learned a lot of new techniques that I can use going forward! So, for better or worse, here's my first entry for any Nordanner show or competition complete with a fic that almost turned into a short story. Gotta hand it to you guys - you really know how to get my creative juices stewing! Thanks so much for making this opportunity available - drawing this has been the best part of my summer vacation, difficulty notwithstanding.

Story: Rescuing Durango

In the three seconds it took for her to fling her torch right into the dragon’s eyes, Kassia decided three things. First was that she had no idea what she was doing. Second, Nog needed better dragon tack. Third, if she ever saw Delmor again, she was going to kiss him for real.

The dragon’s angry wailing brought her back to center – it had backed away from the torch and was clawing at its eyes where the fire had burned into the sensitive tissues. The torch itself lay a few feet away on the cave floor, still burning. Praying that Nog wouldn’t bolt or spook, Kassia lay the reins again the mare’s neck and brought her about. Nog’s ears were flattened against her neck, but she obeyed and headed back towards the torch. In one smooth flip, Kassia leaped off the running horse and caught up the torch, then spun around. “Hi!” she shouted, “aft over!”

Squealing, the mare slid to a stop, turned on a dime, and dashed back. She bared her teeth at the sputtering torch but ducked her head underneath as Kassia made a bold leap onto her back. Then, they were pounding away into the darkness, and not a minute too soon. Flames lit their way, casting the dripping stalactites into sharp relief.

The dragon was giving chase. Kassia could feel the pounding of its broad claws through the hoofbeats of her horse. Nog asked for her head; she gave it, and the mare threaded her way through the tangle of rock and shallow pools, narrowly evading the furious blast of fire that occasionally streaked towards them. It sang as it passed, almost pure white and hotter than anything Kassia had ever felt. It smelled like metal, or like hot sand in the sun.

They came into a broad passage that swept away into a huge room, lit by some clumpy yellow things far above. Gasping, Kassia swung her mare around to face the dragon, watched it gallop into the room, blowing smoke. The faint light from its chest scales gleamed like pearls in the darkness.

The eye is the soft spot, she thought, and hoped that blinding the dragon would give her a chance. Her hand slid down her thigh to the pouch on her breeches and her gloved fingers closed around the little throwing stars issued to every Etnarian soldier. Well, it works on the giant apes, she thought grimly, so maybe it will work on a dragon. Expertly, she flipped it around her fingers into a throwing position and drove Nog forward with her legs. The mare was barely hesitant and went forward boldly. Mustering all the strength in her arm and shoulder, Kassia hefted the star and hurled it with all her might at the dragon’s right eye.

The dragon snapped its head around and roared, and the throwing star bounced harmlessly off the horny ridge above its eye. Snorting in alarm, Nog lurched away from the whipping tail, then danced backwards as the dragon’s head came toward them again. Fire sang past them again; Kassia found herself gasping for oxygen as it dissipated into thick gray smoke. Asphyxiation wasn’t one of the dangers normally associated with dragon hunting, she supposed, but it was definitely going to be a problem so long as they were underground!

Nog’s amber eyes were rimmed with white as she glared back over her shoulder at the dragon. It was crouching back against the cave wall now, grinning wickedly, and waiting for them to make the next move.

Not since her first encounter with the giant apes in Norland had Kassia felt so shaken. She was shivering in the saddle, long, desperate shudders of panic. She grasped a second throwing star and reluctantly cued Nog to face the dragon again. Had not her throat been burned dry by the hot air, she would have sobbed in terror. Nog trotted stiffly, all the dance taken out of her. Evade, she thought grimly and made as though they were to pass into one of the cavernous openings, horribly aware of the slitted, glowing eyes that watched her every move. Steady, steady, keep breathing, she told herself, and then she was seized with a fit of coughing.

They were almost into the dark cavern when she kneed Nog abruptly, stifled the coughs, and flung the star as hard as she could at the dragon’s eye.

The dragon moved a lot faster than she anticipated; the rush of its movement knocked them further back into the cave – Nog barely managed to stay on her feet – and it roared a horrible, croaking sound. Kassia clung weakly to the mare’s dark mane as she swerved away from the racking claws. In that brief moment, she saw that the star had found its mark, and black-blue blood was gushing down the dragon’s face, hissing and steaming from the heat of its scales.

Nog swerved again, and the fire actually singed her long tail in passing. The dragon shook its head violently and roared; it had freed its eye of the throwing star, but the flowing blood had it half-blinded. Desperately swerving from another white-hot stream of fire, Nog whinnied loud and clear, her voice echoing off the cavern walls. There was hard foam on her neck; dark sweat stained her shoulders. Kassia could do nothing but cling to her; her brain was refusing to function. Why didn’t the mare turn tail and run? What was she waiting for? What was she supposed to do?

The dragon opened its mouth and spat another stream of white fire toward them. Nog danced away just in time, but she missed the whipping tail striking towards them. Kassia was aware for a split second of a horrible, hot smack across her neck and shoulders, and then she was hurtling through the air. Beneath her, Nog was galloping, her fine head thrown back and a desperate expression in her amber eyes. Then she struck the ground, and everything faded into darkness.

*****

How she had strayed out of Etnar into this strange place was beyond her. Literally. In fact, she preferred not to think of it. Maybe it was the magic that held this place together, or else her brain had some instinct of self-preservation and stayed away from thoughts that would damage it. Either way, one minute she had galloped heedlessly into a stray patch of fog on the banks of the Great Sycamore… and the next minute charged out of a strange forest into a strange meadow just adjacent a bustling town and a castle she had never seen before.

For the first few minutes, she had sat open mouthed on her horse, not quite sure if her eyes were playing tricks on her. When she finally mustered the courage to look behind, she was startled to see no patch of fog at all, but a dark wood that seemed to stretch into infinity, though she was fairly certain there were mountains in the distance. This whole place felt like a land where there were mountains.

There was nothing to do but go forward into the town. In fact, Nog seemed very eager to head into the bustling crowd of people, heedless of her rider’s caution. She of course didn’t have to worry about strange clothing, or whether or not she knew the language. Helpless, Kassia finally let the mare have her way, and left the reins loose and low on her neck.

Nog ambled straight through the milling pack of people to the center of town where a big fountain bubbled into a man-made pool lined with shining discs. Upon closer examination, Kassia realized that the discs were scales – dragon scales – in every pearly shade of iridescence known to man. Nog bent her head and drank of the water; when she lifted her head, there was a light in her eye that Kassia had never seen before, a sense of knowing.

“Lookit, Ma,” a thin voice cried. “A nog mare!”

Kassia turned her head and saw an old dame clutching the elbow of a round-faced boy wearing a bright red cap with a blue feather. He was grinning up at her. “She’s sooooooo pretty,” he said. “Mighten’ I pat her?”

“Land sakes, child,” his mother scolded. “Let the lady be! Can’t ye see she’s from foreign parts?”

“It’s alright,” Kassia said. She dismounted. “What’s that about a nog mare?”

“Eggnog,” the boy stated, his little brown hands patting up Nog’s wide blaze. “If a colt is born with splashes of cream ‘stead of white, he’s a nog horse ‘cause he looks dipped in eggnog. Nog horses are rare because most mares drop colts in the spring and only winter colts can have nog markings.”

“What is eggnog?” Kassia asked. Her question was met with a horrified stare.

“Don’t they have eggnog in yer parts?” he said.

Kassia had no idea if eggnog, or whatever it was, existed in Etnar under a different name, but it seemed too difficult to explain so she shook her head.

“It’s a drink for Christmas time,” the old dame said, drawing near and putting out a worn hand to Nog’s soft nose. The mare nickered and licked the sugar from the woman’s hand. “We beat yolks and whites into a bowl of brandy and add sugar and brown spices.”

It sounded good. Terribly good. Kassia’s stomach rumbled.

Tsk, tsk, the old woman clucked. She fumbled in her girdle and drew a few gold coins. “Lady, take these.”

“I can’t!” Kassia gasped.

“Happens every year around dragon hunting time,” the old dame said. “Nordanners from foreign parts turn up here with their unsuspecting riders. Only the queen knows why, of course, but they’re all here to take part in the hunt. Everyone carries a little extra gold for travelers like ye.”

Kassia looked at Nog. Did you know about this? She could have sworn that the mare winked at her.

“So where do I find out about this dragon hunt,” she said slowly, allowing the woman to fold the gold coins into her hands.

“Head towards the castle. Tell them yer here for the hunt and they’ll set ye up proper. She’s wearing her dragon tack, isn’t she?”

*****

“Yer nag’s n’gonna last two heartbeats tacked like that.”

Kassia frowned at the hunt master. “The hawker who sold her to me told me this was her dragon tack,” she answered. “It fits her better than anything else I have.”

The hunt master slapped his riding whip into his open palm. “Ne’ert’less,” he said. “No guards for the face, naught to cover her backside. She’ll be scorched certain and ye’ll be without a horse.” His face twisted into a dark expression. “An’ ye never want to be on foot around a dragon, lass.”

Mounting frustration made Kassia wonder, if dragon hunting was such a dangerous business, why they would allow an apparent novice like herself to join. For despite the hunt master’s objections, her name was already written in clear, bold letters on the parchment listing all the horses and their riders for the hunt. He could protest all she wanted, and she still had the right to go. After all, she owned a Nordanner and that qualified her for all kinds of things, apparently.

The hunt master sighed. “We…eell,” he said, stretching the vowel between his teeth, “I can give ye sommat that will even up yer odds. Free to all dragon hunters in these parts,” he added as though sensitive to Kassia’s apprehension of all this free giving (the gold weighed heavily in her pants pocket still, only slightly lighter than when the woman had given them for Kassia had eaten heartily before heading to the castle courtyard). He bent behind the table and rummaged around in a set of crates. “Her majesty allus offers them to any who join the hunt,” he explained. “Free potions. And they only work on Nordanner’s” he added sternly.

The bottle he handed her glowed like a hot coal, and a faint sensation of heat radiated through its crystal surface. “What does it do?” she asked, but she could already guess.

“It’ll give yer nag the ability to w’stand direct flames. S’long as yer ridin’ her, ye’ll be protected, too,” he said. “Jus’ pour it on her mane, shoulders, and a lil’ on the tail. Not now. Keep it for great need.”

Sheepishly, Kassia tucked the little bottle into the breast pocket of her jacket.

“Now,” the hunt master said, “The rules. Ye only have three weeks to complete yer task. Ye may team with other riders if they have Nordanners. And ye must pick one of the tasks – jus’ one – to complete.”

He handed Kassia another parchment with a long list written in a spidery scroll. She squinted, struggling to read the unfamiliar language. “Sea dragons?” she asked.

“Take my advice and don’t go fer that one, lass,” the hunt master said kindly. “Lurkers are near impossible to find fer such large beasts. This is yer first hunt. Pick something you can win.”

She looked again at the parchment. Dragons stealing gold and treasure from the caravan, a reward for recovering. Dragon stole a magic mirror and hid it in a magical cave, a reward for recovering. Mushrooms low in stock, a reward for any dragon hunter brave enough to collect the rare mushrooms growing on the backs of wood dragons. Dragon horsenapped one of the queen’s horses and was holding it in some mysterious cave three leagues away from the castle, presumably to taunt the queen. Something inside Kassia lurched at the thought of a horse being held captive by a dragon.

“Queen’s horses?” she asked.

A shadow passed over the hunt master’s face. “Durango,” he said. “The horse the dragons hate. One of our best. Brought down mo’ dragons than any other horse in the queen’s stables. Ah lass, the dragons hate him! Why, scarce three months ago, three dragons dared attack him at night in the big pasture! Big yearlin’ dragons, stupid ‘nuff to be foolish and strong ‘nuff to be dangerous. By the time the stable hands high-tailed to rescue him, he had worn the three out by runnin’ around the pasture, kickin’ when they flew too close. It was all a game to him, lass. Aye, he’s a fine old beast.”

“Is it necessary to kill the dragon?” Kassia asked, aware that she had no real weapon for dragon fighting.

“No. The object is to rescue the horse.” He appraised her slowly. “Ye might be able to do it, if yer smart and listen to the good sense of yer mare.”

“Put me down for that one, then.” She looked up at him soberly. “And… and if it’s not too much, can you tell me what else I need to do?”

*****

When she came too, she was lying sprawled behind a huge bolder. Water was dripping on her face, cold clean water that sparked a sudden thirst. Instinctively, she turned her head and opened her mouth to receive the drops. Revived, she sat up slowly, putting one hand to her head as the ground tried to rush up at her.

The dragon was a stone’s throw away, sleeping. Smoke curled from its nostrils, and there was a horrid taste of ash in the air. Why hadn’t it killed her? A giant ape would have devoured her on the spot. But then, maybe dragons liked to play with their food the way a cat did, or maybe eating her wasn’t the point.

Nog stood a little distance from her, head low, reins trailing on the ground. Her delicate ears tipped forward when she saw Kassia crouching next to the boulder, and she stepped forward slowly, carefully. Behind her, another shape followed, a shape thrown into relief against the inky blackness by brilliant blue eyes glowing like gemstones. Even as Kassia’s hands cradled her mare’s searching nose, her eyes held onto the curious gaze of the old stallion - Durango, the horse the dragons hated.

Well, if he was here, then they were all prisoners. Instead of a rescue mission, they needed to escape or be rescued themselves. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing, Kassia thought, if another dragon hunter found us. There were others in this cave searching for Durango.

She looked at Durango again. He was barely visible except for his strange, light blue eyes, and he was looking back at her with equal curiosity. Next to him, Nog appeared small. He was certainly unusual – slender nose, and flaring, fine nostrils, fine bones despite his rugged build and rippling muscles. He was very dark indeed – almost black – but his mane and tail, as he moved, looked as though they had been touched by moonlight. Kassia put out her hand and she felt a soft tongue scrubbing the salty sweat from her palm.

She had to get him out of here.

Nog bumped her shoulder with her head; Kassia wrapped her arms around the mare’s neck and allowed the horse to pull her to her feet. Her legs trembled beneath her, but she appeared unharmed except for a throbbing bruise on the back of her head. Quietly and quickly as she could, she mounted Nog and looked over Durango’s head at the dragon. Her torch sputtered a few feet away from its head, and she decided that it wasn’t worth trying to retrieve. Even worse, the flickering light illuminated the smoke gathering on the cave floor. Had it not been for the water dripping on her face, Kassia might well have smothered while she was unconscious. Shuddering, Kassia scrubbed her hand over her face and tried not to think about what had almost happened.

Durango looked at her and stretched his nose out. Kassia looked back, and a moment of understanding rippled between them. They were going to follow him out now, while the dragon was half-blinded and exhausted (it was a very old dragon!). She tied the reins to the little knob on the front of her saddle and placed her hands on her thighs. At the end of the day, it was up to the horses like it always was.

Durango held them to a slow, creeping pace, carefully lifting and placing his feet as though he walked on glass. Nog held her head right at his hip, her breath stirring the strange markings on his hindquarters. As closely as she could, she fitted her steps to match his, placing her feet where he placed his. They made almost no sound that could be heard over the sleeping dragon’s breathing (which vaguely reminded Kassia of the roar of a furnace). A sickly, shivery feeling came over her when she remembered the hot, wicked scent of the dragon’s fire, and how it melted all her courage away. Then she slapped her hand over her mouth to hide a gasp.

The heat potion was still in her jacket pocket!

Feeling supremely foolish, Kassia pulled the little bottle out of her breast pocket. On the mane, shoulders, and a little on the tail, the hunt master had said. Quickly, she sprinkled half the contents over the back of her horse and marveled at how the mare’s shimmery coat took on a golden cast. When she raised her hand before her face, it, too, was outlined in the same faint glow of orange.

There was half a bottle left, and Kassia decided that Durango needed the rest. At the very least, the potion would protect them from the fire, and if they could stay ahead of its teeth and claws, they might just have a fighting chance. And a fighting chance was all Kassia needed. Carefully, she urged Nog to a quicker walk, reached over, and dribbled the rest of the potion on Durango’s shoulders.

Durango snorted and shied.

The bottle flew from Kassia’s hand, smashed against the rocks and broke with a bright, metallic twang.

The dragon’s head jerked up, and he roared in anger. Then he spat fire.

“Run, Nog!” Kassia screamed in a whisper.

Both horses took off at a furious gallop. Durango spared Kassia a withering glance before he pushed Nog out of the lead.

Shoulder for shoulder they galloped, Durango’s fine head just a little above Nog’s, and he led them down through the long, black corridors of the cave, splashing in the little pools or leaping little gullies that he remembered from previous hunts. Nog stuck to him like glue and moved as he moved; Kassia scarcely dared move at all, for it was plain that her inexperience had cost them their cover. Behind them, the dragon gave chase, roaring, and spitting fire. Occasionally, a liquid stream of flame would burst over their heads, or light the gray stalactites to their right or left. When it came close, Kassia did everything she could to keep from screaming, but though she felt the heat, it was never hot enough to burn, and the dragon couldn’t aim correctly with one eye.

There was one desperate moment when the corridor narrowed, and Durango moved ahead of Nog. Kassia hadn’t realized how quickly she had come to trust the big stallion, and how his presence calmed her; she found herself whirling about in the saddle, staring open-mouthed as the dragon spat fire again, this time the blast striking only a few feet from Nog’s hindquarters. Durango whinnied loudly, and Nog answered in her deeper voice; they were plunging upwards and the cave was now grayer than inky black. Nog stumbled; she scrambled upright as Kassia clung to her neck. When they emerged into the outer world, moonlight shimmered all around them and the dragon’s roaring was distant and full of failure. The tunnel Durango had brought them through was too narrow for the dragon!

Durango barely stopped to see if they were being followed. He plunged into the forest, head held high, light blue eyes glowing. Kassia had a brief vision of him silhouetted against the rising moon as he led them up the long slope of a hill. He was perfection - his noble dark head was thrown up against the sky; as his defiant cry rang out, his great shoulders rippled into a rear. There was no fault in him, not in his powerful hindquarters, nor his strong clean legs. A horrible sense of longing came over her; even as she clung weakly to Nog, she was aware that there was something older and wilder in the stallion that her mare lacked.

He was leading them back to the castle, she realized, and felt relief. So bone weary was she that she lacked the strength to know where she was, maybe even to care. Thus it was that Durango led them back, Durango the horse the dragons hated bringing home the dragon hunter and her horse. She had done badly, she knew nothing about dragons, and she wanted very much to go home (but how was she going to get back there?). Nevertheless, she had succeeded with Durango’s help and sheer dumb luck.

People were gathered outside the castle with torches and lanterns, waiting for them. Some little ways away stood a woman dressed in royal purple; she was obviously the queen. Durango pranced right up to her and dropped his nose into her waiting hands. Kassia couldn’t hear what the woman said to the big stallion, but his ears drooped and he relaxed for the first time. Had he been a dog, he would have been wagging his tail.

“Thank you, stranger,” the queen said. “You have done me a favor worthy of a great reward, for this old stallion is very precious to me. What can I do for the woman who brought back my horse from the claws of a dragon?”

Kassia opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She knew nothing about this country, knew nothing about what might be of value here or what would be of value if she managed to return to her own lands. Gold, horses, items of value, they were all things that she should ask for – things any sensible dragon hunter would want – but what came out of her mouth surprised both her and the people gathered to meet her.

“If it please your majesty… might I have a little eggnog?”

The queen smiled. “I think,” she said, “that could be arranged.”

Finis

Description

<-Previous Story | Next Story->
Art Copyright © 2018 by Aliennor. All rights reserved.

Horse: A5552 Swimmin' In Nog
Show: Annual Dragon Hunt 2018 hosted by Nordanner
Reference: Freisian Canter Turn | Credit: Chunga-Stock (Lady Derpina)

Link to Second Image
Link to Third Image (Nordanner RNG Mini Show Submission)

Prompt: A very clever elderly dragon (possibly a Vrux) has kidnapped horsenapped one of the Queen's horses! Getting them back won't be easy - this dragon has set up various traps and chosen a maze-like cave system to hide in. Will you be able to rescue the horse in time before the dragon craves a snack?

Artist's Notes: this has been one of the most challenging art projects I've completed outside of school. I decided I wanted to do a jump scare scene where my MC and her horse run into the dragon while searching for the Queen's horse. In order to create a spooky scene, I sketched the picture in white on black (link to concept art ). Moving from my black and white sketch to a fully colored, painted illustration took me a total of four days with me on the verge of scrapping the whole thing. But I'm glad I stuck with it; I've learned a lot of new techniques that I can use going forward! So, for better or worse, here's my first entry for any Nordanner show or competition complete with a fic that almost turned into a short story. Gotta hand it to you guys - you really know how to get my creative juices stewing! Thanks so much for making this opportunity available - drawing this has been the best part of my summer vacation, difficulty notwithstanding.

Story: Rescuing Durango

In the three seconds it took for her to fling her torch right into the dragon’s eyes, Kassia decided three things. First was that she had no idea what she was doing. Second, Nog needed better dragon tack. Third, if she ever saw Delmor again, she was going to kiss him for real.

The dragon’s angry wailing brought her back to center – it had backed away from the torch and was clawing at its eyes where the fire had burned into the sensitive tissues. The torch itself lay a few feet away on the cave floor, still burning. Praying that Nog wouldn’t bolt or spook, Kassia lay the reins again the mare’s neck and brought her about. Nog’s ears were flattened against her neck, but she obeyed and headed back towards the torch. In one smooth flip, Kassia leaped off the running horse and caught up the torch, then spun around. “Hi!” she shouted, “aft over!”

Squealing, the mare slid to a stop, turned on a dime, and dashed back. She bared her teeth at the sputtering torch but ducked her head underneath as Kassia made a bold leap onto her back. Then, they were pounding away into the darkness, and not a minute too soon. Flames lit their way, casting the dripping stalactites into sharp relief.

The dragon was giving chase. Kassia could feel the pounding of its broad claws through the hoofbeats of her horse. Nog asked for her head; she gave it, and the mare threaded her way through the tangle of rock and shallow pools, narrowly evading the furious blast of fire that occasionally streaked towards them. It sang as it passed, almost pure white and hotter than anything Kassia had ever felt. It smelled like metal, or like hot sand in the sun.

They came into a broad passage that swept away into a huge room, lit by some clumpy yellow things far above. Gasping, Kassia swung her mare around to face the dragon, watched it gallop into the room, blowing smoke. The faint light from its chest scales gleamed like pearls in the darkness.

The eye is the soft spot, she thought, and hoped that blinding the dragon would give her a chance. Her hand slid down her thigh to the pouch on her breeches and her gloved fingers closed around the little throwing stars issued to every Etnarian soldier. Well, it works on the giant apes, she thought grimly, so maybe it will work on a dragon. Expertly, she flipped it around her fingers into a throwing position and drove Nog forward with her legs. The mare was barely hesitant and went forward boldly. Mustering all the strength in her arm and shoulder, Kassia hefted the star and hurled it with all her might at the dragon’s right eye.

The dragon snapped its head around and roared, and the throwing star bounced harmlessly off the horny ridge above its eye. Snorting in alarm, Nog lurched away from the whipping tail, then danced backwards as the dragon’s head came toward them again. Fire sang past them again; Kassia found herself gasping for oxygen as it dissipated into thick gray smoke. Asphyxiation wasn’t one of the dangers normally associated with dragon hunting, she supposed, but it was definitely going to be a problem so long as they were underground!

Nog’s amber eyes were rimmed with white as she glared back over her shoulder at the dragon. It was crouching back against the cave wall now, grinning wickedly, and waiting for them to make the next move.

Not since her first encounter with the giant apes in Norland had Kassia felt so shaken. She was shivering in the saddle, long, desperate shudders of panic. She grasped a second throwing star and reluctantly cued Nog to face the dragon again. Had not her throat been burned dry by the hot air, she would have sobbed in terror. Nog trotted stiffly, all the dance taken out of her. Evade, she thought grimly and made as though they were to pass into one of the cavernous openings, horribly aware of the slitted, glowing eyes that watched her every move. Steady, steady, keep breathing, she told herself, and then she was seized with a fit of coughing.

They were almost into the dark cavern when she kneed Nog abruptly, stifled the coughs, and flung the star as hard as she could at the dragon’s eye.

The dragon moved a lot faster than she anticipated; the rush of its movement knocked them further back into the cave – Nog barely managed to stay on her feet – and it roared a horrible, croaking sound. Kassia clung weakly to the mare’s dark mane as she swerved away from the racking claws. In that brief moment, she saw that the star had found its mark, and black-blue blood was gushing down the dragon’s face, hissing and steaming from the heat of its scales.

Nog swerved again, and the fire actually singed her long tail in passing. The dragon shook its head violently and roared; it had freed its eye of the throwing star, but the flowing blood had it half-blinded. Desperately swerving from another white-hot stream of fire, Nog whinnied loud and clear, her voice echoing off the cavern walls. There was hard foam on her neck; dark sweat stained her shoulders. Kassia could do nothing but cling to her; her brain was refusing to function. Why didn’t the mare turn tail and run? What was she waiting for? What was she supposed to do?

The dragon opened its mouth and spat another stream of white fire toward them. Nog danced away just in time, but she missed the whipping tail striking towards them. Kassia was aware for a split second of a horrible, hot smack across her neck and shoulders, and then she was hurtling through the air. Beneath her, Nog was galloping, her fine head thrown back and a desperate expression in her amber eyes. Then she struck the ground, and everything faded into darkness.

*****

How she had strayed out of Etnar into this strange place was beyond her. Literally. In fact, she preferred not to think of it. Maybe it was the magic that held this place together, or else her brain had some instinct of self-preservation and stayed away from thoughts that would damage it. Either way, one minute she had galloped heedlessly into a stray patch of fog on the banks of the Great Sycamore… and the next minute charged out of a strange forest into a strange meadow just adjacent a bustling town and a castle she had never seen before.

For the first few minutes, she had sat open mouthed on her horse, not quite sure if her eyes were playing tricks on her. When she finally mustered the courage to look behind, she was startled to see no patch of fog at all, but a dark wood that seemed to stretch into infinity, though she was fairly certain there were mountains in the distance. This whole place felt like a land where there were mountains.

There was nothing to do but go forward into the town. In fact, Nog seemed very eager to head into the bustling crowd of people, heedless of her rider’s caution. She of course didn’t have to worry about strange clothing, or whether or not she knew the language. Helpless, Kassia finally let the mare have her way, and left the reins loose and low on her neck.

Nog ambled straight through the milling pack of people to the center of town where a big fountain bubbled into a man-made pool lined with shining discs. Upon closer examination, Kassia realized that the discs were scales – dragon scales – in every pearly shade of iridescence known to man. Nog bent her head and drank of the water; when she lifted her head, there was a light in her eye that Kassia had never seen before, a sense of knowing.

“Lookit, Ma,” a thin voice cried. “A nog mare!”

Kassia turned her head and saw an old dame clutching the elbow of a round-faced boy wearing a bright red cap with a blue feather. He was grinning up at her. “She’s sooooooo pretty,” he said. “Mighten’ I pat her?”

“Land sakes, child,” his mother scolded. “Let the lady be! Can’t ye see she’s from foreign parts?”

“It’s alright,” Kassia said. She dismounted. “What’s that about a nog mare?”

“Eggnog,” the boy stated, his little brown hands patting up Nog’s wide blaze. “If a colt is born with splashes of cream ‘stead of white, he’s a nog horse ‘cause he looks dipped in eggnog. Nog horses are rare because most mares drop colts in the spring and only winter colts can have nog markings.”

“What is eggnog?” Kassia asked. Her question was met with a horrified stare.

“Don’t they have eggnog in yer parts?” he said.

Kassia had no idea if eggnog, or whatever it was, existed in Etnar under a different name, but it seemed too difficult to explain so she shook her head.

“It’s a drink for Christmas time,” the old dame said, drawing near and putting out a worn hand to Nog’s soft nose. The mare nickered and licked the sugar from the woman’s hand. “We beat yolks and whites into a bowl of brandy and add sugar and brown spices.”

It sounded good. Terribly good. Kassia’s stomach rumbled.

Tsk, tsk, the old woman clucked. She fumbled in her girdle and drew a few gold coins. “Lady, take these.”

“I can’t!” Kassia gasped.

“Happens every year around dragon hunting time,” the old dame said. “Nordanners from foreign parts turn up here with their unsuspecting riders. Only the queen knows why, of course, but they’re all here to take part in the hunt. Everyone carries a little extra gold for travelers like ye.”

Kassia looked at Nog. Did you know about this? She could have sworn that the mare winked at her.

“So where do I find out about this dragon hunt,” she said slowly, allowing the woman to fold the gold coins into her hands.

“Head towards the castle. Tell them yer here for the hunt and they’ll set ye up proper. She’s wearing her dragon tack, isn’t she?”

*****

“Yer nag’s n’gonna last two heartbeats tacked like that.”

Kassia frowned at the hunt master. “The hawker who sold her to me told me this was her dragon tack,” she answered. “It fits her better than anything else I have.”

The hunt master slapped his riding whip into his open palm. “Ne’ert’less,” he said. “No guards for the face, naught to cover her backside. She’ll be scorched certain and ye’ll be without a horse.” His face twisted into a dark expression. “An’ ye never want to be on foot around a dragon, lass.”

Mounting frustration made Kassia wonder, if dragon hunting was such a dangerous business, why they would allow an apparent novice like herself to join. For despite the hunt master’s objections, her name was already written in clear, bold letters on the parchment listing all the horses and their riders for the hunt. He could protest all she wanted, and she still had the right to go. After all, she owned a Nordanner and that qualified her for all kinds of things, apparently.

The hunt master sighed. “We…eell,” he said, stretching the vowel between his teeth, “I can give ye sommat that will even up yer odds. Free to all dragon hunters in these parts,” he added as though sensitive to Kassia’s apprehension of all this free giving (the gold weighed heavily in her pants pocket still, only slightly lighter than when the woman had given them for Kassia had eaten heartily before heading to the castle courtyard). He bent behind the table and rummaged around in a set of crates. “Her majesty allus offers them to any who join the hunt,” he explained. “Free potions. And they only work on Nordanner’s” he added sternly.

The bottle he handed her glowed like a hot coal, and a faint sensation of heat radiated through its crystal surface. “What does it do?” she asked, but she could already guess.

“It’ll give yer nag the ability to w’stand direct flames. S’long as yer ridin’ her, ye’ll be protected, too,” he said. “Jus’ pour it on her mane, shoulders, and a lil’ on the tail. Not now. Keep it for great need.”

Sheepishly, Kassia tucked the little bottle into the breast pocket of her jacket.

“Now,” the hunt master said, “The rules. Ye only have three weeks to complete yer task. Ye may team with other riders if they have Nordanners. And ye must pick one of the tasks – jus’ one – to complete.”

He handed Kassia another parchment with a long list written in a spidery scroll. She squinted, struggling to read the unfamiliar language. “Sea dragons?” she asked.

“Take my advice and don’t go fer that one, lass,” the hunt master said kindly. “Lurkers are near impossible to find fer such large beasts. This is yer first hunt. Pick something you can win.”

She looked again at the parchment. Dragons stealing gold and treasure from the caravan, a reward for recovering. Dragon stole a magic mirror and hid it in a magical cave, a reward for recovering. Mushrooms low in stock, a reward for any dragon hunter brave enough to collect the rare mushrooms growing on the backs of wood dragons. Dragon horsenapped one of the queen’s horses and was holding it in some mysterious cave three leagues away from the castle, presumably to taunt the queen. Something inside Kassia lurched at the thought of a horse being held captive by a dragon.

“Queen’s horses?” she asked.

A shadow passed over the hunt master’s face. “Durango,” he said. “The horse the dragons hate. One of our best. Brought down mo’ dragons than any other horse in the queen’s stables. Ah lass, the dragons hate him! Why, scarce three months ago, three dragons dared attack him at night in the big pasture! Big yearlin’ dragons, stupid ‘nuff to be foolish and strong ‘nuff to be dangerous. By the time the stable hands high-tailed to rescue him, he had worn the three out by runnin’ around the pasture, kickin’ when they flew too close. It was all a game to him, lass. Aye, he’s a fine old beast.”

“Is it necessary to kill the dragon?” Kassia asked, aware that she had no real weapon for dragon fighting.

“No. The object is to rescue the horse.” He appraised her slowly. “Ye might be able to do it, if yer smart and listen to the good sense of yer mare.”

“Put me down for that one, then.” She looked up at him soberly. “And… and if it’s not too much, can you tell me what else I need to do?”

*****

When she came too, she was lying sprawled behind a huge bolder. Water was dripping on her face, cold clean water that sparked a sudden thirst. Instinctively, she turned her head and opened her mouth to receive the drops. Revived, she sat up slowly, putting one hand to her head as the ground tried to rush up at her.

The dragon was a stone’s throw away, sleeping. Smoke curled from its nostrils, and there was a horrid taste of ash in the air. Why hadn’t it killed her? A giant ape would have devoured her on the spot. But then, maybe dragons liked to play with their food the way a cat did, or maybe eating her wasn’t the point.

Nog stood a little distance from her, head low, reins trailing on the ground. Her delicate ears tipped forward when she saw Kassia crouching next to the boulder, and she stepped forward slowly, carefully. Behind her, another shape followed, a shape thrown into relief against the inky blackness by brilliant blue eyes glowing like gemstones. Even as Kassia’s hands cradled her mare’s searching nose, her eyes held onto the curious gaze of the old stallion - Durango, the horse the dragons hated.

Well, if he was here, then they were all prisoners. Instead of a rescue mission, they needed to escape or be rescued themselves. Wouldn’t that be embarrassing, Kassia thought, if another dragon hunter found us. There were others in this cave searching for Durango.

She looked at Durango again. He was barely visible except for his strange, light blue eyes, and he was looking back at her with equal curiosity. Next to him, Nog appeared small. He was certainly unusual – slender nose, and flaring, fine nostrils, fine bones despite his rugged build and rippling muscles. He was very dark indeed – almost black – but his mane and tail, as he moved, looked as though they had been touched by moonlight. Kassia put out her hand and she felt a soft tongue scrubbing the salty sweat from her palm.

She had to get him out of here.

Nog bumped her shoulder with her head; Kassia wrapped her arms around the mare’s neck and allowed the horse to pull her to her feet. Her legs trembled beneath her, but she appeared unharmed except for a throbbing bruise on the back of her head. Quietly and quickly as she could, she mounted Nog and looked over Durango’s head at the dragon. Her torch sputtered a few feet away from its head, and she decided that it wasn’t worth trying to retrieve. Even worse, the flickering light illuminated the smoke gathering on the cave floor. Had it not been for the water dripping on her face, Kassia might well have smothered while she was unconscious. Shuddering, Kassia scrubbed her hand over her face and tried not to think about what had almost happened.

Durango looked at her and stretched his nose out. Kassia looked back, and a moment of understanding rippled between them. They were going to follow him out now, while the dragon was half-blinded and exhausted (it was a very old dragon!). She tied the reins to the little knob on the front of her saddle and placed her hands on her thighs. At the end of the day, it was up to the horses like it always was.

Durango held them to a slow, creeping pace, carefully lifting and placing his feet as though he walked on glass. Nog held her head right at his hip, her breath stirring the strange markings on his hindquarters. As closely as she could, she fitted her steps to match his, placing her feet where he placed his. They made almost no sound that could be heard over the sleeping dragon’s breathing (which vaguely reminded Kassia of the roar of a furnace). A sickly, shivery feeling came over her when she remembered the hot, wicked scent of the dragon’s fire, and how it melted all her courage away. Then she slapped her hand over her mouth to hide a gasp.

The heat potion was still in her jacket pocket!

Feeling supremely foolish, Kassia pulled the little bottle out of her breast pocket. On the mane, shoulders, and a little on the tail, the hunt master had said. Quickly, she sprinkled half the contents over the back of her horse and marveled at how the mare’s shimmery coat took on a golden cast. When she raised her hand before her face, it, too, was outlined in the same faint glow of orange.

There was half a bottle left, and Kassia decided that Durango needed the rest. At the very least, the potion would protect them from the fire, and if they could stay ahead of its teeth and claws, they might just have a fighting chance. And a fighting chance was all Kassia needed. Carefully, she urged Nog to a quicker walk, reached over, and dribbled the rest of the potion on Durango’s shoulders.

Durango snorted and shied.

The bottle flew from Kassia’s hand, smashed against the rocks and broke with a bright, metallic twang.

The dragon’s head jerked up, and he roared in anger. Then he spat fire.

“Run, Nog!” Kassia screamed in a whisper.

Both horses took off at a furious gallop. Durango spared Kassia a withering glance before he pushed Nog out of the lead.

Shoulder for shoulder they galloped, Durango’s fine head just a little above Nog’s, and he led them down through the long, black corridors of the cave, splashing in the little pools or leaping little gullies that he remembered from previous hunts. Nog stuck to him like glue and moved as he moved; Kassia scarcely dared move at all, for it was plain that her inexperience had cost them their cover. Behind them, the dragon gave chase, roaring, and spitting fire. Occasionally, a liquid stream of flame would burst over their heads, or light the gray stalactites to their right or left. When it came close, Kassia did everything she could to keep from screaming, but though she felt the heat, it was never hot enough to burn, and the dragon couldn’t aim correctly with one eye.

There was one desperate moment when the corridor narrowed, and Durango moved ahead of Nog. Kassia hadn’t realized how quickly she had come to trust the big stallion, and how his presence calmed her; she found herself whirling about in the saddle, staring open-mouthed as the dragon spat fire again, this time the blast striking only a few feet from Nog’s hindquarters. Durango whinnied loudly, and Nog answered in her deeper voice; they were plunging upwards and the cave was now grayer than inky black. Nog stumbled; she scrambled upright as Kassia clung to her neck. When they emerged into the outer world, moonlight shimmered all around them and the dragon’s roaring was distant and full of failure. The tunnel Durango had brought them through was too narrow for the dragon!

Durango barely stopped to see if they were being followed. He plunged into the forest, head held high, light blue eyes glowing. Kassia had a brief vision of him silhouetted against the rising moon as he led them up the long slope of a hill. He was perfection - his noble dark head was thrown up against the sky; as his defiant cry rang out, his great shoulders rippled into a rear. There was no fault in him, not in his powerful hindquarters, nor his strong clean legs. A horrible sense of longing came over her; even as she clung weakly to Nog, she was aware that there was something older and wilder in the stallion that her mare lacked.

He was leading them back to the castle, she realized, and felt relief. So bone weary was she that she lacked the strength to know where she was, maybe even to care. Thus it was that Durango led them back, Durango the horse the dragons hated bringing home the dragon hunter and her horse. She had done badly, she knew nothing about dragons, and she wanted very much to go home (but how was she going to get back there?). Nevertheless, she had succeeded with Durango’s help and sheer dumb luck.

People were gathered outside the castle with torches and lanterns, waiting for them. Some little ways away stood a woman dressed in royal purple; she was obviously the queen. Durango pranced right up to her and dropped his nose into her waiting hands. Kassia couldn’t hear what the woman said to the big stallion, but his ears drooped and he relaxed for the first time. Had he been a dog, he would have been wagging his tail.

“Thank you, stranger,” the queen said. “You have done me a favor worthy of a great reward, for this old stallion is very precious to me. What can I do for the woman who brought back my horse from the claws of a dragon?”

Kassia opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She knew nothing about this country, knew nothing about what might be of value here or what would be of value if she managed to return to her own lands. Gold, horses, items of value, they were all things that she should ask for – things any sensible dragon hunter would want – but what came out of her mouth surprised both her and the people gathered to meet her.

“If it please your majesty… might I have a little eggnog?”

The queen smiled. “I think,” she said, “that could be arranged.”

Finis