Sable's Arc

Chapter 2 of 18

Sable climbed toward the cliffs with the poisoned stone heavy on her belt. She had never seen the dragon up close. She did not know when its eye opened or its mouth gaped. Guess wrong, and she would stand in the open while it woke. So she stopped short of the roost and hid behind an appleberry tree, its branches thick with red fruit. She watched. She learned nothing. The beast lay curled, scales shut like a locked door. By nightfall she gave up and walked to the crossroads. Edna Mull sat at her folding table, her ledger open, her velvet coat frayed at the cuffs. Sable had known her for years. The old woman smiled the smile that never touched her eyes. "You mean to fight it," Edna said. She did not look up. "Your name goes in this book if you do it wrong." "Then tell me how to do it right," Sable said. "When does its eye open? When does its mouth show?" Edna set down her pen. She had read old books once, in seven tongues. "Wrong question," she said. "You watch for the throw. Watch instead for the moment it does not need to hide." Sable frowned. "What moment is that?" "When it is happy," Edna said. "Bring it something small. Something it would not eat. Then look." Sable thought of hate. She was tired of it. She was tired of the ledger and the buried shepherd boy. She had come here for a killing time, and the old woman had given her something stranger. At dawn Sable returned. She carried no poisoned stone in her hand. Instead she brought two small living things she had found near the river reeds. A baby rhino, round and gray, nosing at her boots. A purple kitten with no tail, floating on light paws, opening its mouth to sing. She set them down in the grass below the roost. Then she waited behind the fruit tree. The dragon woke. Its head lifted. Sable's throat went dry. She reached for her sling. But the beast did not lunge. It watched the kitten sing. Its great eye opened wide and stayed open. Its mouth parted, not to bite, but to make a low sound almost like a purr. The rhino trotted between its claws, unafraid. Sable saw it all. The eye, exposed. The mouth, soft and open. She could have thrown. Her hand found the wrapped stone on her belt. She did not throw. The dragon lowered its head toward the small singing thing. For the first time, Sable saw where its guard dropped. Not in rage. In calm. She had her answer. She knew now when the eye and mouth lay open. But she also knew something worse. The beast could be gentled. And now she was not sure she wanted to kill it at all.