Chapter 32

Dragon flight obviously did not suit Prince Orin the way it did Masonae. He rode behind Masonae on the back of Snult and clung as tightly as possible as they flew over the seemingly never ending plain. The ride was much smoother than the one over the top of the mountains, but he was quite sure the prince was turning green behind him.
Masonae had not exactly been pleased when he saw Orin sneaking away from the caves, but he did understand the reasons the prince thought he had to get away and do something on his own. It was in part the same way Masonae had left his house for Tamarin. But at least he’d written a note… both times. He’d grabbed a pack and his bow, and headed off after the prince, relieved when he heard Pylon padding after him. Too much was at stake for Masonae just to let Orin off on his own. If he lost that map, there’d be nothing left to help them find the seeds to save Galadin. So when the prince asserted that Masonae would only be back up, he was quite happy to let him have his way… as long the prince didn’t mess up too badly.
Suddenly on the horizon Masonae saw what at first only looked like a green lump in the middle of the plain. As they grew closer, he could see it was actually the top of a large tree set down inside a large crater. There were little streams that broke through the grass and emptied in a waterfall down the side of the crater creating pools at the bottom. The tree was enormous, even for Galadinian standards.
After circling around once, Snult set them down at the edge of the crater, electing not to fly down into it. Happy not to have Orin not clinging to his backside, Masonae slid off and carefully walked up to the edge.
“It’s right where she said it would be,” Prince Orin remarked as he came up behind Masonae.
“Perhaps we should have some lunch and then go explore,” Masonae said, eyeing Orin. He was definitely a little green.
“You go ahead and eat if you’re hungry. I’ll wait for you.”
Masonae backed away from the crater and sat beside a little stream that trickled quietly up to the crater before dumping itself over the edge. Pylon lay next to him, one front paw crossed over the top of the other. No one had to mention food twice to Snult. He shrunk and waited on Masonae’s shoulder for him to unwrap the sausage from the cheesecloth it was placed in.
Masonae watched Orin as he ate. The prince was pacing the edge of the cliff, pausing every so often to peer over. He was probably looking for a way down. Without rope it would be a problem. A medium size Snult might be able to drop them down, one at a time, but getting back up would take time. Although Masonae didn’t see any dangers, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to take the chance and getting stuck down there.
“How do you plan on getting down?” he asked.
“Well, I thought that Snult could get us down, but there’s no fast escape route that way.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” Masonae said. The prince gave him a quizzical look. “Really.” Masonae said as he got to his feet and packed away the rest of the food. Snult yawned.
“That’s what I was afraid of. Make Snult do more work.”
“Thank you, dragon, for getting us this far,” Prince Orin said.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Snult said as he yawned again. “But if you think I’m flying you back to Galadin tonight, you slightly off your kilter. He rested his head on Masonae’s shoulder.
“You look tired,” Masonae said.
“I think I may have found a solution to our problem. Look.” Prince Orin pointed to the far side of the crater. Sure enough, there was a small narrow flight of stone steps that led to the floor.
Prince Orin made his way around the crater, and Masonae followed dutifully in his footsteps.
“Well, at least we know that someone’s been here before, and carved these steps,” Orin said as they started down. “I haven’t seen any other signs of civilization above ground around here.” Orin slipped, but managed to catch himself before Masonae had to rescue him.
They reached the bottom of the crater, and they picked their way across the extensive roots system to the trunk of the tree. Other than its size, it looked like any other tree in Galadin, except most of them had begun to change colors for the fall. This one was still a bright healthy green. Upon closer inspection, Masonae decided the berries that littered the ground were quite unusual. They were blue, and not the deep almost purple blue of most berries, but a light sky color. They grew in bunches and hung heavy from the upper branches of the tree.
“I wouldn’t eat those berries if I were you,” Prince Orin advised as Masonae picked one off the ground and sniffed it.
Masonae didn’t plan to eat it. The thing was coated with a semi-hard shell, rather like a sugar treat with a soft center. It smelled sweet, but so did a lot of other poisonous concoctions.
“The question is,” he began, “are these the seeds of the tree we’re looking for?”
“Berries have seeds, don’t they?” Prince Orin asked picking one off the ground. “But these don’t. I think they’re dry.” He reached up to pluck a bunch off the tree, breaking a few twigs in the process.”
“What are you funny little things doing?” Prince Orin fumbled for his sword and swung around. Masonae turned as well, Pylon’s crouched and ready position registering in his peripheral vision.
The girl was sitting on an upper limb of the tree, her coloring so similar, it was no wonder they hadn’t seen her. She was slender, and swung her legs without fear of falling. Her skin was a brown hue and her green springy hair cascaded over her shoulders in a rather unruly mop. Her dress looked as if it had been sewn from red and golden leaves, giving her the patchwork look of a ragamuffin. Despite this, her curious wide eyes were a clear sky blue and were so well framed in her face that Masonae thought for a moment she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
The prince seemed as dumbstruck as he. It wasn’t until she melted into the limb and reformed at the trunk near their feet that he finally managed to move.
“Good afternoon, gentle tree nymph. My name is Prince Orin of Galadin, and I am here on a quest searching for the seeds of the Alban Tree. We have traveled quite far from Galadin to this place.”
“Oh really? And where’s that?” Prince Orin looked stumped for a moment before his reply.
“That way?” He pointed in the general direction they’d come from.
“Are there a lot of people there?”
“Yes, lots.”
“Oh, I don’t like people. Lots of them, anyways. You look alright though.”
“Why thank you. May I enquire as to your name?”
“Name? I suppose I have one around here somewhere.” She began to scout the base of the tree.
“No. I mean what do people call you?” I’m Prince Orin, that’s Masonae, and over there is Pylon.”
She jumped and rushed over to Pylon who had come out from his pounce pose.
“Oh, I love your hair. It’s very much the same color as mine.”
“Pylon can’t talk. He’s a cat.”
“A cat? What’s a cat?”
“He’s a cat. Sort of.”
“He’s very pretty. Why can’t he talk? Has he forgotten how?”
“Cats just don’t talk. What do you want me to call you?” The prince was obviously on a mission.
“I suppose I’ve always liked the name Cybele, but Pylon is a good one too. Can you call me Pylon?”
Prince Orin sighed. “Cybele. Your name is Cybele.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want.”
“Now Cybele, we’re looking for the seeds of the Alban tree.”
“Seed.”
“Do you know what I’m talking about?”
“Of course I do. But there’s only one left.”
“Right. Where is it.”
“I’m it.”
“You’re it.”
“Me.”
“Are you sure?”
Masonae closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was trying very hard to let the prince go lead the way, but this was beginning to go in circles.
“Are you Prince Orin of Galadin?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
Prince Orin stared at her. She didn’t seem to mind. She began to dance among the roots, humming a song to herself. Masonae finally decided to chime in.
“Were there other seeds?”
“Yes. Of course, but they all flew away on the wind, and left me here. It’s quite lonely here.”
She didn’t seem to upset by it, though. She had moved over to Pylon again and was inspecting his tail. She giggled everytime it twitched against her. Pylon simply eyed her with detatched curiosity.
“Would you like to come with us on a trip? You wouldn’t be lonely,” Prince Orin added.
“I’d rather stay here, thank you.”
The prince cast a disparing look at Masonae who shrugged. Short of finding something to tie her up with, they’d have to find a way to convince her to join them voluntarily.
“Galadin is very beautiful,” Masonae said. “And there are lots of trees to play with.”
“Trees?” Her attention was suddenly all on Masonae. She jumped up and skipped towards him, invading his space until her eyes were all he could see. Their noses bumped and he could feel her bough scented breath against his face.
“How many?” She asked. Masonae tried to back up but found himself against the trunk of the tree.
“Lots. Too many to count. Forests. Lots and lots of forests,” he said. It was hard to concentrate with those bright blue eyes blinking in front of him, knowing that she could see him in the same way. It was disconcerting to say the least. Masonae couldn’t even see the prince as he called out.
“Yes, Galadin has lots of trees. All kinds,” Orin said, but Cybele still didn’t back away.
“You’ll take me to those trees?” Masonae would do anything right about now.
“Uh huh.”
Her shriek of joy was alarming and he flinched, knocking his head back on the tree. She did, to his relief, back up and begin another little dance.
“I wouldn’t eat those berries if I were you,” Prince Orin advised as Masonae picked one off the ground and sniffed it.
Masonae didn’t plan to eat it. The thing was coated with a semi-hard shell, rather like a sugar treat with a soft center. It smelled sweet, but so did a lot of other poisonous concoctions.
“The question is,” he began, “are these the seeds of the tree we’re looking for?”
“Berries have seeds, don’t they?” Prince Orin asked picking one off the ground. “But these don’t. I think they’re dry.” He reached up to pluck a bunch off the tree, breaking a few twigs in the process.”
“What are you funny little things doing?” Prince Orin fumbled for his sword and swung around. Masonae turned as well, Pylon’s crouched and ready position registering in his peripheral vision.
The girl was sitting on an upper limb of the tree, her coloring so similar, it was no wonder they hadn’t seen her. She was slender, and swung her legs without fear of falling. Her skin was a brown hue and her green springy hair cascaded over her shoulders in a rather unruly mop. Her dress looked as if it had been sewn from red and golden leaves, giving her the patchwork look of a ragamuffin. Despite this, her curious wide eyes were a clear sky blue and were so well framed in her face that Masonae thought for a moment she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
The prince seemed as dumbstruck as he. It wasn’t until she melted into the limb and reformed at the trunk near their feet that he finally managed to move.
“Good afternoon, gentle tree nymph. My name is Prince Orin of Galadin, and I am here on a quest searching for the seeds of the Alban Tree. We have traveled quite far from Galadin to this place.”
“Oh really? And where’s that?” Prince Orin looked stumped for a moment before his reply.
“That way?” He pointed in the general direction they’d come from.
“Are there a lot of people there?”
“Yes, lots.”
“Oh, I don’t like people. Lots of them, anyways. You look alright though.”
“Why thank you. May I enquire as to your name?”
“Name? I suppose I have one around here somewhere.” She began to scout the base of the tree.
“No. I mean what do people call you?” I’m Prince Orin, that’s Masonae, and over there is Pylon.”
She jumped and rushed over to Pylon who had come out from his pounce pose.
“Oh, I love your hair. It’s very much the same color as mine.”
“Pylon can’t talk. He’s a cat.”
“A cat? What’s a cat?”
“He’s a cat. Sort of.”
“He’s very pretty. Why can’t he talk? Has he forgotten how?”
“Cats just don’t talk. What do you want me to call you?” The prince was obviously on a mission.
“I suppose I’ve always liked the name Cybele, but Pylon is a good one too. Can you call me Pylon?”
Prince Orin sighed. “Cybele. Your name is Cybele.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want.”
“Now Cybele, we’re looking for the seeds of the Alban tree.”
“Seed.”
“Do you know what I’m talking about?”
“Of course I do. But there’s only one left.”
“Right. Where is it.”
“I’m it.”
“You’re it.”
“Me.”
“Are you sure?”
Masonae closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was trying very hard to let the prince go lead the way, but this was beginning to go in circles.
“Are you Prince Orin of Galadin?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
Prince Orin stared at her. She didn’t seem to mind. She began to dance among the roots, humming a song to herself. Masonae finally decided to chime in.
“Were there other seeds?”
“Yes. Of course, but they all flew away on the wind, and left me here. It’s quite lonely here.”
She didn’t seem to upset by it, though. She had moved over to Pylon again and was inspecting his tail. She giggled everytime it twitched against her. Pylon simply eyed her with detatched curiosity.
“Would you like to come with us on a trip? You wouldn’t be lonely,” Prince Orin added.
“I’d rather stay here, thank you.”
The prince cast a disparing look at Masonae who shrugged. Short of finding something to tie her up with, they’d have to find a way to convince her to join them voluntarily.
“Galadin is very beautiful,” Masonae said. “And there are lots of trees to play with.”
“Trees?” Her attention was suddenly all on Masonae. She jumped up and skipped towards him, invading his space until her eyes were all he could see. Their noses bumped and he could feel her bough scented breath against his face.
“How many?” She asked. Masonae tried to back up but found himself against the trunk of the tree.
“Lots. Too many to count. Forests. Lots and lots of forests,” he said. It was hard to concentrate with those bright blue eyes blinking in front of him, knowing that she could see him in the same way. It was disconcerting to say the least. Masonae couldn’t even see the prince as he called out.
“Yes, Galadin has lots of trees. All kinds,” Orin said, but Cybele still didn’t back away.
“You’ll take me to those trees?” Masonae would do anything right about now.
“Uh huh.”
Her shriek of joy was alarming and he flinched, knocking his head back on the tree. She did, to his relief, back up and begin another little dance.
Her mossy hair twirled about her as she pirouetted and giggled melodically. She bumped into the trunk of the tree, but kept right on going, sinking into the tree and disappearing from sight.
Prince Orin was glaring at Masonae. Okay, that was the last time he’d try to help. There was no time for discussion because she suddenly appeared again, but this time with a little box. She grabbed Masonae’s arm and began to tug him towards the staircase.
“Trees, trees, trees, trees, trees,” she chanted. Reluctantly, Masonae let himself be led along. He heard Orin scrambling up the staircase behind them.
“Where are the trees?” Cybele asked when they got to the top. She glanced around as if expecting them to appear from the miles of fields around them.
“They’re that way.” Masonae grabbed her arm. “But we’re not going to walk. We’re going to fly. Tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Because our dragon is tired.”
“Dragon?! Dragons burn trees!” She cowered down and searched the skies.
“No, no. Not that kind of dragon. A great dragon. He likes trees. Tell her Snult.”
Snult poked his head of Masonae’s pocket.
“Yeah, yeah, trees are great. Trees are pretty. I like trees.”
“That’s a little dragon. He’s cute. Hello pretty dragon.” She grabbed Snult out of Masonae’s pocket and he let out a rather horrified squeak as she began to pet him. He wriggled until he freed himself from her hands and flew backwards. In a gush of wind, he grew to full size and dropped to the ground with an earth shaking thud. Snult glared at Cybel, placing his smokey nostrils right near her face. With a single movement of his jaw, he could have swallowed her whole.
“You don’t pet a dragon,” Snult said, each word emphasized with a puff of smoke.
Cybele laughed, clapped her hands, and gave Snult’s nose a hug. The anger in his eyes melted and he let out a sigh that reminded Masonae of Orin’s sigh earlier.
Snult shrunk down to a smaller size and perched himself on Masonae’s shoulder. He yawned.
“I think sleep would be a good idea right now,” Masonae said.
“Okay,” Cybele said cheerfully. She sat down on the ground, and curled up in a little ball to sleep.
Masonae shrugged and sat down beside her. Snult crawled out off his shouler and curled up in his own ball, tucking his tail around him. Pylon stretched out and also yawned. Prince Orin stood over them for a minute. He looked a bit lost. After a moment, he sat down, a bit further away and turned his back to them. Masonae just shook his head and drifted off to sleep.