Dragon Gems (Winter 2024) by Water Dragon Publishing

Author:Water Dragon Publishing [Water Dragon Publishing]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Dragon Gems
Publisher: Water Dragon Publishing
Published: 2024-01-26T08:00:00+00:00

Breathe

Jon Hansen

I breathe in the night, its darkness running warm into my blood, then I breathe out the day. Its light is cold, biting my skin as it grows. There is no place to hide in it. Then, when the darkness is all gone, I sit back and rattle my chains. The silver links chime like bells, the sound echoing in my cell. The sound pleases me, but I’m always careful not to rattle them by accident.

If they came and found that the night still remained, they might not return.

Soon I can hear them approaching, feet shuffling in the hallway. The three great locks tumble open, one by one, and then my cell door opens to reveal the Mountain King. His eyes squint a little at the day I have made, before focusing on me.

“Your chains displease you?” he says. His tone is grave, polite, as if asking after my health.

“No more than usual,” I answer.

He steps forward, lifting his feet so as not to disturb the day. “I would have them replaced with gold, if I could. You are worthy of it, but they would not hold you.” Our talk is always the same. It was once a game we played, and now has become no more than a ritual, phrases asked and answered.

“The silver honors me sufficiently,” I assure him, and he nods. Then in troop his men, the gatherers of the day. They carry bags woven from golden mesh and shovels with blades plated with gold. With swift precision they wield their tools, shoveling the day into the bags to be carried out into the kingdom under the mountain (or so I am told!) to provide the realm with light. As they work it grows darker in my cell. Their shovels move faster and faster, slicing through the thinning light. I can see nervousness start to pass among them, jumping from man to man. Still, they work on, unwilling to pass on the least morsel of the day.

They have reason to fear, of course. A moment, a flick of my hand, and I could seize an arm or a leg or a neck. Then I could see what darkness lurked in their meat.

But I do not. If they feared me too much, then the king might refuse to carry out the day. I would have to lie here among it, chained into place, unable to escape, forced to wallow in the cold light I had created until the end of all things.

For a moment I feel a tickling, as if I am watched by someone. I look up but see only the Mountain King watching me. His gaze is familiar to me as the stones in my cell; this was strange and unfamiliar, this regard. But the gatherers are tending to the corners, claiming the last sweepings of light. Perhaps I dreamed it.

As the last bag closes, the night has returned to my cell. The door opens and I hear them hurry out. The Mountain King’s voice sounds different in the dark: “We thank you, as always.

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