and
Amero walked back to where the trapped plainsfolk were crouching behind hastily erected barricades of stones, logs, and twists of thorny vines. At their approach, a hail of spears landed around Amero.
“Stop!” he shouted. “I’m human, like you!”
“Showering you with gratitude,” Duranix said dryly. He stood behind Amero, looking a bit unsteady on his feet.
“You’re scaring them,” the boy said. “Can’t you change to human form?”
“I’m tired,” he said. The dragon dropped on his belly and rested his chin on his crossed forelegs. His tail curled around his body. He sighed and closed his eyes. “You explain things to the silly creatures. I’ll remain here.”
Amero picked his way through a welter of rocks and logs. Deer sprinted to and fro, and wild pigs dashed about, grunting.
“The yevi are gone!” Amero called. “It’s safe! You can come out!”
Slowly, a thickset man emerged from a heap of logs and stones, spear couched on his shoulder. He climbed atop a fallen log and pointed at Amero with his weapon.
“Who are you, who commands the stormbird?” he asked hoarsely.
“‘Commands?’” said Amero. He glanced back at the slumbering dragon. Forgive me, mighty one, but if it calms them, let them think so!
Amero approached the lone hunter. His beard was strongly flecked with gray, and his broad shoulders were scarred with the marks of a long and strenuous life. Amero held up his hands, palms out, the plainsman’s gesture of peace.
“I am Amero, son of Oto and Kinar,” he said.
“Valka,” the man replied, tapping his chest with his spearhead. “What do you want with us?”
Amero was taken aback. He’d expected, at the very least, grudging thanks. Stifling his annoyance, he said, “I want nothing. My friend and I saw your trouble from the air and came to help you.”
Valka’s black brows rose. “The stormbird is your friend?”
“Yes. His name is Duranix.”
Gradually more hunters appeared, along with their mates and children. Amero had never seen so many people together at one time. They were plainly curious about the boy they’d seen fall from the clouds in the grasp of a mythical stormbird. They pressed in, trying to get a glimpse of him and the fantastic creature lying so quietly on the same ground where he’d routed the yevi host.
Valka said, “Who are you, boy? Where did you come from?”
“As I said, I am Amero, son of a hunter like you. Some weeks past my family was killed by the yevi — the same creatures who were stalking you. I was saved by Duranix, and since then we’ve been trying to warn others about them.”
“We’ve been running from the near-wolves for a full change of the moon,” Valka said. “They killed my son, Duru.” Fathers and mothers in the crowd took up the refrain, listing the names of family members claimed by the remorseless yevi.
“Duranix has scattered them,” Amero said. “A few may lurk about for a while, but I don’t think they’ll mass again, for fear he will destroy them.”
“How can he destroy them?” said a yellow-haired woman, her faced streaked with tears. “Are they not evil spirits sent to plague us?”
Amero shook his head. “They’re flesh, hide, and bone, like any other animal,” he said firmly. “Come, look at the slain.” He started toward the battle site. “Come,” he said again to the reluctant hunters. “Don’t be afraid.”
Though Amero walked within arm’s length of the dozing dragon, the other humans gave him a wide berth. Rain had put out the fires Duranix had started, but steam hung in the air over the blasted soil. Three centaurs had already gone out to inspect the bodies of the burned and smashed predators. The centaurs watched the plainsmen approach with tense expressions.
“Peace to you,” Amero said. Up close, centaurs stank. He tried not to wrinkle his nose in disgust, remembering what Duranix had said about the smell of humans. Valka and some of the bolder hunters poked and prodded among the dead yevi.
“Huh,” a centaur grunted. “Like wolf, but bigger.”
“They have hands,” said one of the humans, startled. “What unnatural beasts!”
The tallest centaur approached Amero. He held out a swarthy, black-nailed hand to the boy. “You save miteera. Now, friends.”
“Miteera” must be either the centaur’s name, or the name of his band, Amero decided. The boy did not hesitate but clasped the creature’s rough, callused hand. Not long ago he would have been terrified to be so close to a centaur, but after living with a dragon, he found that centaurs weren’t so frightening after all. They certainly showed a lot more gratitude than the plainsmen.
“Friends,” he said, gripping the centaur’s hand as hard as he could.
The creature released him and gestured at the yevi with his club. “These people?”
“They’re smart as people,” Amero said. “They were sent to drive us off the plains.”
“Sent by who?” asked the blonde woman sharply.
“Another dragon — a stormbird — the enemy of Duranix. He lives far to the west, in the forest.”
They mulled this over, and Valka said, “What’s to prevent this enemy from sending more beasts to attack us?”
“Duranix will fight them,” Amero said proudly.
“He’s a mighty beast, but he can’t be all places at once.”
“My children are dead!” cried the blonde woman. “Three of them carried off! How can my man and I live, knowing any other children we have can be killed by these creatures?”
“My family was destroyed by them, too,” Amero replied, “but Duranix saved me.” He wanted to ask her how safe any of them were, with panthers, vipers, drought, starvation, disease… their lives were an endless struggle for survival. He wanted to ask all of them, but he didn’t. There was no answer to her question, or to his.
The centaur leader said it best: “Help now, and live. Help later, and live. Alala!” With this exclamation, he and his brethren raised their clubs in salute and galloped away.
Amero trudged through the slackening rain to where the dragon slept. Before he reached the slumbering giant, a hand caught his arm.
Valka asked, “Where do you go now, boy?”
“I go home with Duranix.”
“What is ‘home?’”
“The place where Duranix lives.” He pointed eastward. “There, at the edge of the mountains, at the lake of the falls.”
“And he protects you from the yevi?”
Amero nodded. Valka looked back at the other people. Some had taken up their meager possessions and were already moving on. Others, among them the angry blonde woman, remained a few paces away, waiting expectantly.
“Would he protect us?” asked Valka.
Amero hesitated. “I think he would,” he said. “Let me ask him.”
Valka hung back as Amero approached the sleeping dragon. Though his heart hammered at his own temerity, Amero decided to put on a bold front. The folk watching were all older and more experienced than he. If he betrayed any fear of the dragon, he’d forfeit the influence he had as Duranix’s friend.
“Hey,” he said loudly, “Duranix, wake up!”
The dragon’s leathery nostrils flared. A gust of hot breath almost swept Amero off his feet. The dragon opened one eye, the eyelids splitting vertically to reveal a huge gold-flecked pupil. The eye focused on Amero, narrowing.
“What do you want?” said the dragon testily. The edge in his voice caused the small crowd of humans to shrink back.
“I have an idea,” Amero said brightly. “These people would like to place themselves under our protection.”
