After floating away on the clouds of sleep, Edna soon drifts back to the golden surface she lies on—well, dragged back, rather, by the sound of Pixie’s voice.
“She needs this sleep, she’s been through so much,” Pixie is saying.
The dragon is huffing in irritation. “If she doesn’t wake up soon, I may have a visitor who will hear her story at the same time I do, and I won’t be able to say that I was first,” the dragon says.
Pixie’s voice is strained, but she continues, patiently. “Yes, I do understand that that would be disappointing for you, but if we wake her before she’s had enough sleep, she’ll be grouchy and probably not in much of a mood to talk.”
“Well, how long do you think she’s going to be asleep? How long do these older humans need to sleep?”
Edna keeps her eyes closed. She is amused and curious; the dragon seemed so solemn when she and her friends followed him to the cave. Now he is acting like a five-year-old on the verge of a temper tantrum.
“They seem to need a lot of sleep.” Twynne says with faux solemnity. Then, suddenly cheerful, “but she’s always in a better mood after she wakes up. Trust me, it’s best to wait,”
“But,” the dragon whines, “I never get to be the one who introduces a new curiosity to the others; no one here has ever seen an old human. I was smart enough to notice she was different, so I should be the one who gets to introduce her to the other dragons.” Edna rolls her eyelids up a little to see Pixie’s face, and she sees frustration hidden behind a look of innocent concern. Edna begins to laugh. Everyone looks at her surprised. Edna’s laugh does not stop, it continues until her eyes are full of tears. Kadiatu does not know what the laugher is about, but it makes her happy, so she joins in. Twynne joins in, too, and then the others. Even Cellu laughs a little, though he is quick to stop.
So, old humans are like jesters, the dragon thinks. The others will be jealous. He too begins to laugh, though he does not know what is funny, and he is not feeling the same joy as Kadiatu.
The laughter creates such a lively menagerie of sounds that it attracts the curiosity of a dragon who happens to be passing by the cave.
“Drake, what’s going on in there?” Comes the voice of the dragon outside the cave.
“Now, see!” Their host says, “I’ve not even been able to talk to the old woman, and I already have visitors.”
“That’s okay,” Pixie says. “Invite your friend in and you can introduce him to Edna, in your own home.”
Drake’s eyes brighten. “Yes, you’re right! You’re my guests!” And then loudly for his friend to hear, “come in, Dargen, come in. It is a very delightful day for you to come to my house. I have some entertaining guests to introduce to you.”
Dargen waddles down into the cave. He is even larger than their host. “A fairy and a troll,” he says, lazily, “some giants, I assume, a centaur, a human child; nothing interesting about you troublesome little humans, and… who are you?”
“My name’s Edna. I’m an old human, much different than you’re used to, I’m sure.”
“You do look much different,” Dargen says, eyeing Edna. “What were you all laughing about? I love a good joke.”
Drake looks at Edna, questioningly.
“We were just laughing,” Pixie says, “at life, at ourselves, you know, just a good hardy laugh.” She smiles at Drake, “which is certainly to come when in good company.”
Drake is pleased with Pixie’s response. “Yes, that’s indeed what we were laughing at.” He says, a little too loudly and a little too quickly to be believable, but Dargen believes it anyway.
“Yes, I always treat my guests well,” Drake continues. “So, Edna, tell Dargen your story. I don’t mind hearing it again, very fascinating story it is. I’m not one to keep a good story all to myself. Tell Dargen why you’re here at your age. I know he’s dying of curiosity.”
“But you…” Kadiatu begins, but Pixie squeezes her hand and gives her a look. Kadiatu giggles. She has been given that look before by her aunt, when a certain old man in her village was telling one of his tall tales.
“Well,” Edna begins, “I’ve been asking myself that same question. I don’t understand any of this, really. How do the children get here in the first place, and why do they come? And do they need Storia? Did I need Storia? What would my life’ve been like if I’d come as a kid? And, well, I never used to believe in God, but I don’t know about that anymore. There’s gotta be someone sending us here—making sure we’re given thimbles of food, with normal sized spoons.” Edna laughs at a joke only she gets; she and, she supposes, the one who sent her here. “I don’t know why I was sent here so old, though, but…”
She stops for a moment and gathers her thoughts. She is really just thinking aloud. There is a lot to unpack. And no one here seems as bewildered that creatures from another world appear out of the blue as she is at appearing here out of the blue. Such happenings must simply be another fantastical part of what makes this world what it is.
“I guess I don’t think it’s a mistake that I’m here, at my age.” Edna continues. “I don’t know the reason, but maybe that’s okay. I can speculate on the reasons; maybe I’m learning important lessons I couldn’t have learned when I was younger, and I needed to learn them here. I don’t know, really. And I don’t know what those lessons are, if that’s the reason. And I’m okay with being here now, but it would’ve been nice to’ve come with a youthful body. And maybe it’s not about me. Maybe there’s some crazy reason that an old lady needs to save…” Edna stops herself and skips over her thoughts when she remembers that certain parts of her story might be concerning to a dragon.
“Throughout my life I’ve heard many stories of dragons and fairies and unicorns and all sorts of fantastical creatures that…”
“Oh, you’ve heard of dragons in your world?” Dargen interrupts. “What are we like in your stories?”
“Well, you’re magnificent creatures who breathe fire. Many in our stories are scary, but I assume that’s not true in all stories. And there are cultures in which dragons are a symbol of prosperity, and now I can see why, you are prosperous creatures.” The dragons are delighted to hear this last bit.
“But fairy stories have always angered me; the silly fascination humans have with what I believed to be complete rubbish. I tried to believe when I was younger. I wanted to believe in anything that would make me feel less alone. But at a young age I realized, or thought I realized, that I needed to look out for myself since there was no-one else who would. And that meant believing only what was in front of me; and expecting only what I had already experienced. I guess that’s why children come here. Having this experience, even if you don’t remember it, must help you get through some hard times; cause the hard times can be so dark. But, if you’ve been here, even if you don’t remember it, I think you must still know that there are true and good things to hope in, even when it doesn’t feel like it.”
“And the dragons, what did you think of the dragons, did you like what you heard about them?” Drake asks.
“Well, I guess I didn’t mind the idea of dragons so much. I’d assumed that belief in dragons came from the discovery of dinosaur bones. I didn’t think there was much of a leap to believe that dragons existed.”
“And what were these dinosaurs like? Were they well fed? Rich? Powerful?”
“Powerful, sure. Some of them were very ferocious. But they were just animals from many years ago. They weren’t sapient like you are. The funny thing is that I never would’ve thought my purpose here would be to fight a dragon, little old me, and a…” Edna has let her mind wander too far. She catches an alarmed look on Pixie’s face and immediately stops talking.
The dragons listen expectantly, waiting for Edna to finish her sentence. But Edna has caught herself so off-guard that she cannot speak; she cannot think quickly, and no remedy comes to mind to guide the conversation away from what she has just said. Dargen’s smile begins to fade. He notices the cane, partly hidden behind Edna, and his eyes widen.
“Drake,” Dargen says, “was there not some prophecy of a magic stick that looks something like,” the dragon hesitates in thought, “like that?” He lifts a front limb and jabs one claw towards the cane.
“That’s the dragon killing weapon!” Drake says. “She’s here to do us harm!”
Edna puts her good hand onto the cane and struggles to lift herself up.
“Now listen,” Edna grunts as Gargana helps her to her feet, “I’m not here to make trouble, not with you or your friend and not with any of you lot of dragons.”
Oh, of all the ridiculous sights Edna thinks to herself. Me trying to convince two dragons that I mean them no harm. She begins to laugh again but this time no one joins in.
“Listen,” Pixie says, “we’re really not here to harm anyone or to cause a fight, we’re looking for answers.”
“Answers?” Dargen says. “No, you want to enslave us and steal our treasures!”
“Now what in the world makes you think we’re trying to do any of that? That’s preposterous,” Edna says, walking towards Dargen. But the dragons back up and flail their wings then turn, climbing over each other while running towards the cave entrance. They look like two hens running from a predator.
“I’m not going to hurt you!” Edna yells as they flee. She throws up one hand in exasperation and leaves it in the air, pointing towards the entrance while she looks at her friends, who mirror her baffled expression. Edna drops her raised arm and shrugs her shoulders in irritation, then cries out in pain as the motion pulls at her wound.
Gargana quickly sees to Edna’s arm and Kadiatu clings to Edna’s legs which tries the old lady’s impatience. Edna has to keep herself from snapping at the bewildered little girl who js clinging to her legs while she is in so much pain.
As Gargana re-dresses Edna’s wound, they hear an uproar outside the cave. Twynne walks towards the entrance to see what the commotion is. The same group of dragons who had circled gleefully around acrobatic creatures now circle the cave entrance; and they chant “leave our land, leave our land, leave our land!” When Edna’s group walks up the entrance and meets the crowd, the shouting becomes louder, “leave our land, leave our land!”
Edna feels responsible to reassure the crowd since it is her and her cane that frightens them.
“Please believe me, you have no reason to feel threatened. We’ve greatly enjoyed your hospitality, thanks to our wonderful host,” Edna says, absentmindedly pointing to Drake with her cane. The crowd collectively gasps and runs from the elderly woman and her cane.
“I would have never pictured dragons being such idiotic creatures,” Edna says. “What should we do now? We haven’t even been able to ask them if there are any dragons who we should be concerned about.”
“Well,” Gargana says. She hesitates, then continues, “we could use their fear to make them give us answers, right?”
“What do you mean, love?” Gargan asks.
“They’re afraid of Edna’s cane, but they seem to have the prophecy all wrong. But they won’t listen to reason, so maybe our best bet is to play into their fears.”
“How?” Edna asks.
“Play the part for now, make them give you answers. I think if you order them around, they’ll feel like they have some control over the situation; that if they obey you, you won’t hurt them.” Gargana’s idea is met with silence, and one smile. “I know it seems cruel, but they won’t listen to you otherwise and we need answers. Our entire world needs answers, including them, they’re part of this world, are they not?”
Edna sighs, long and heavily. She hates the idea. She does not want to frighten anyone; even when she is grouchy and rude, her intentions are never to alarm others, only to protect herself. But Gargana is right, they need answers, and the silly creatures will not listen to reason.
“Let’s find out where they all went,” Edna says.
Outside the cave, the grassy path is torn up from the dragons’ fleeing talons, and there are steaming trails of dung.
Edna takes great pity on the dragons.
Renee Rushing 
Leave a comment