“Won’t they think it’s suspicious that a pair of youths with holes in their shoes has a haul of money equivalent to an emperor’s ransom?” asked Marianne hesitantly.
“That’s why we’re going by the sword shop first,” said Robin, dismounting from the dragon as they landed. He reached up to assist Marianne, but Leo snapped open his wings and knocked Robin down. “The only thing I complained about carrying was you,” retorted Leo, gently helping Marianne to the ground. As Marianne stepped down, she grabbed her head in pain, “Uhh!” she cried, stumbling and smudging her dress. “Marianne, what’s the matter?” asked Robin, running over. “My head feels heavier than a rock!” said Marianne, in agony.
“You’re probably tired,” said Robin, “How about I go to town and give you a chance to bathe and do all that girl stuff?”
“Bathing isn’t simply for girls,” rejoined Leo, “It’s for anyone who wants to be accepted in society.”
Marianne seated herself on a rock, “Please be quiet! I always get headaches when I haven’t had anything to drink for hours.”
“I’m sure it didn’t help to be bobbed up and down this entire morning on top of a giant green rocking horse,” said Robin, glowering at Leo, who responded by sticking out a boa-constrictor of a tongue.
“I’ll watch over you, my lady, while you relax,” offered the dragon. “I need some time to stretch out anyway,” he added, scrunching up his shoulders and letting them fall.
“Since Robin’s heading into the town, do you need anything to eat, Leo?” asked Marianne, making her way light-headedly to the stream.
“No,” said Leo, flopping down and shaking the ground. “Troll is pretty filling.”
“Yuck!” said Robin, beginning to lug the money sack toward town. “Sorry to leave you here with this carnivorous catastrophe, Marianne, but I must be on my way.”
“I’ll be well guarded, Robin,” assured Marianne as Leo released two fiery snorts that singed the trees next to Robin’s head.
“I must work on my aim,” said Leo in a pitying voice as Robin made an effort to haul the treasure sack faster.
Marianne watched as Robin departed down the road. The water was inviting, and Marianne slid gracefully into its arms. Her headache subsided as she gratefully dunked her head under water, and her parched mouth drank in the refreshing liquid. Marianne took a thorough bath, even washing her hair. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if I found a rat still in here. She then settled down in the middle of the stream, looking at the aquatic creatures that emerged as she became motionless. A frog materialized from its river bank hole. A group of small fish darted by, one stopping to nibble Marianne’s little toe before she twitched it. The fish wiggled downstream in a hurry, its minute body throwing itself from side to side. Marianne glanced over at Leo. The gigantic dragon stared up into the heavens, occasionally moving his head a few degrees to either side. Without thinking, Marianne stood up in the stream, her dress clinging heavily to her legs, prompting the frog to spring back inside his home.
Marianne walked from the shaded grove of trees into the blinding sunlight. The air was becoming muggy, so she placed herself in the dragon’s shadow. “What are you doing?”
“Thinking,” came the reply thirty feet above.
“About what?” asked Marianne, unable to put a lid on her bubbling curiosity.
“My parents,” said the dragon.
“Do you remember them at all?” asked Marianne.
“No,” said Leo, heaving his chest out like wind filling the sails of a mammoth boat.
“Do you remember my parents, then?” said Marianne, biting her lower lip in anticipation.
“Yes,” said Leo, “but I can’t tell you about them.”
“Why not?” asked Marianne.
“Because, as my former Holders, they are entitled to privacy.”
“From their only daughter? Are you abiding by some ancient rule that the dragon community set forth? There are hardly any dragons left, anyway! Why can’t you—” Marianne could not finish her sentence because Leo moseyed away, shaking the ground Marianne was sitting on. A hundred feet off, he sat down again. Stupid dragon! thought Marianne, scowling at Leo. Marianne, surely you of all people know what it feels like to be lonely in this world, came a calming voice from within. Feelings of guilt rushed over her, and she buried her fingers in her hair, tilting her eyes upward as she did. I wonder if my parents are up there? she thought, as the wispy clouds tossed about in the air. A stiff breeze pushed across her face while she strolled over to Leo, her shoes flattening the tender grass.
“I’m sorry, Leo,” Marianne said, laying a hand on his treelike leg. “It’s difficult for me to be denied knowledge about who I am. When I play with my hair, when I bite my lip, sometimes I wonder if I got those habits from my parents.” She continued, “As I fall asleep now, I’m tormented with these thoughts. Do I laugh like my father? Do I cry like my mother? I can’t fit together the puzzle of who I am without all the pieces.” Marianne looked up again.
“You’re like your parents in that you’re kind. They always worried about you and Robin in this world. Once your father told me that he wished he could be like me and never have to leave your side. You could call him and he would be there to protect you.” Leo paused to snort. “I can’t tell you certain things because some knowledge must remain confidential. It would cause more trouble than it’s worth.”
“My identity is not trouble,” said Marianne, looking up at Leo stubbornly.
“Yes, but what goes with it can be,” said Leo, sagely. Marianne counted the isolated clouds, interpreting his terseness as an end to the conversation. An unhurried wind moved across the fields.
“Am I the only one who can control you? What if Robin got your glass orb?” asked Marianne, admiring her toes.
“Would you give me to Robin, or would he steal me in the dark of night?” asked Leo, positioning himself next to Marianne.
“I’d give you to him, of course. I think it would be beneficial so that you wouldn’t detest each other so much,” replied Marianne.
“If you had the cruelty to pass me to such a brainless braggart, yes, I must obey him. However, if he makes off with my globe, I would be under no obligation to him, and might have him for lunch if I felt so inclined,” said Leo, mildly.
“You would do no such thing!” cried Marianne.
“I must be given willingly by the Holder, or I will not comply with the thief,” stated Leo, relaxing his neck from side to side.
“Leo,” asked Marianne, “why can I see the future when I look into that ball?”
“I don’t know if what you envision is the future,” he said pensively. “Perhaps it’s a possibility of things to come.”
The day wore on in sweaty waves. Leo savored the humidity (“it nourishes my scales”), but Marianne was less enthusiastic. When the sun reached its pinnacle, she spent the time by the creek, poking holes in the
