By Bonita Jewel
Joseph trailed behind his companion, keeping a distance wide enough that if they found the dragon, it would be satisfied with one roasted knight.
“Sir Joseph, do you catch that foul scent? Methinks we draw near.”
Joseph gagged. “Dusk approaches. Perhaps we should return to our stallions and make camp. I shall continue my fireside tale of baneful birds.”
The young knight faced him. “Sir Joseph of Enzo, do you forsake the honor of this quest? The chance to slay a fearsome dragon and perhaps find Princess Anyie?”
Joseph wanted to gag again but only said, “Lead on, Sir Garlan.”
As they continued into the gorge, boulders gave way to scorched bones. They approached a cliff face freckled with caves.
“A dead end?” Joseph asked.
“No, it is as the stories tell. Dragons are drawn to such places. We must search the caves.”
Joseph clenched his jaw. Two dozen caves at least, some far up the cliff face. Although a winged wyrm could fly, a knight had to climb.
“What if the creature leaves one cave while we seek him in another?” Joseph asked. “Or returns from a hunt to block our escape and sundry? I will stand guard here while you search.”
“Sir Joseph of Enzo, I accept the honor of exploring these cavernous dangers.” Garlan paced toward the nearest cave. “I sense a foul curse afoot. Keep your sword ready!” he called as he disappeared into the darkness.
“A curse.” Joseph chuckled. He found a boulder to settle against and closed his eyes. Within moments, the harsh rustle of wings disturbed his rest. Joseph opened one eye, hoping it wasn’t another murmuration of swallows. He’d hardly escaped the birds last time.
A scaled dragon descended toward him. Joseph stood slowly, hoping to postpone an altercation, at least until Garlan returned.
“You might consider sprucing up the place,” Joseph called as the creature spread its wings into a silent landing, then folded them at its side.
“No need,” the dragon answered in a gravelly voice. “Visitors rarely last long.”
Joseph gripped his sword’s hilt. Might as well get this over with.
The creature opened its mouth wide. Joseph readied his shield for a flurry of flame. The dragon merely yawned. “Let us get this over with,” it grunted.
“Vile creature!” a voice rang out, strong and deep. Garlan emerged from the nearby cave, cloak flung back to reveal a gleaming sword. “You shall be slain this day.”
The dragon faced the dark-haired knight. “What foolish man disturbs my lair?” Its voice pierced the sky as its outstretched wings cast the knight in shadow. “The fire of my breath will be your demise. I shall feast tonight.”
The dragon’s rage at Garlan’s entrance was an odd change, but Joseph of Enzo didn’t mind watching the two in combat. If the dragon prevailed, however, he would have no backup. No companion by the campfire to hear his long tales of poisonous plants, murderous mice, and baneful birds.
“Wait!” Joseph called.
The dragon spun toward him, folding its wings once more. It regarded Joseph with a half-lidded gaze. “Why attempt such folly as fighting?” it asked, sounding almost bored. “There will be only a slaughter.”
“Accursed monster!” Garlan cried.
The creature turned toward the tall knight, puffing its chest out and spreading its wings. “I shall glory in slaying you!” It spewed a lick of flame, clearly a precursor for a larger onslaught.
Joseph waited for a fiercer response from Garlan, but the tall knight paused, as if thinking.
“Stand beside me, brother in arms,” Garlan called to Joseph. “If we perish, we fall with honor.”
Joseph groaned. Two knights dying felt senseless when one would do, yet he approached Garlan and turned to face the winged worm.
The dragon looked between the two men and blinked, tilting its head. It spread its scaled wings, then folded them.
“I knew it,” Garlan said quietly. “Have you a mirror?”
“This is a fight, not a ball,” Joseph muttered.
“It is a matter of life and death.” Garlan held out a hand.
With his free hand, Joseph felt for his pouch, rifling through it and pulling out a small mirror. Garlan sheathed his sword, grabbed the object, and angled it toward the dragon.
“What in Christendom are you doing?” Joseph asked.
“Trust me,” Garlan said softly.
The dragon leaned its long neck forward, its gaze fixed on the small mirror. Tears formed in large, black eyes.
“Dragon tears are deceptive,” Joseph whispered.
“Give it a moment,” Garlan said, excitement in his tone.
Smoke drifted from the creature’s nose.
“Make ready!” the young knight called.
“For what?” Joseph watched smoke billow from its mouth and ears until the scaly creature was lost in it.
“What is this devilry?” Joseph unsheathed his sword. He turned to Garlan, who was taking off his cloak. “Have you gone mad and sundry?”
Slowly, the smoke dissipated.
The dragon was gone. In its place stood a young woman with long tresses of auburn hair. Garlan, gaze averted, held his cloak toward her. The maiden grabbed it and wrapped it around herself.
“Sir Joseph of Enzo,” Garlan said, “I believe we have just recovered the Princess Anyie.”
The princess blinked, as if clearing vision long askew. “I did not know who I was, trapped in some strange enchantment.”
“The mirror curse,” the knight said, smoothing his dark hair and standing straighter.
“The what?” Joseph and Princess Anyie asked at the same time.
“You did not know yourself”—Garlan’s focus was fixed on the lovely princess—“thus you mirrored our demeanor. Your reactions to me were very different from yours to Sir Joseph.”
Princess Anyie gazed at him, her hazel eyes wide. “And the way to break the mirror enchantment—”
“—is with a simple mirror,” Garlan finished.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Joseph said.
“My friend,” Garlan smiled, “if you had allowed me to share my own tales by the campfire, you might have heard of it indeed.”
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Okay but if Anyie the dragon never looked in a mirror until Garlan showed up, how did she shave?
That was a fun take on the character, and a really interesting reimagining of the dragon/damsel myth. I enjoyed it much!