“Drunk,” Elowen’s neighbor said.
Her father nodded in agreement. “A coward stirring up trouble.”
Elowen didn’t speak, she was frozen in place. Her stomach turned.Someone had spotted Midas.
The Council arrived soon after, cloaks stiff and masks glowing a bright ivory in the sun. The Council did not tolerate lies, but they did honor the old ways, and if there was a dragon, Elowen knew they would deal with it in the same way their ancestors did.
Midas was in danger.
Elowen tried to sneak away, to warn him that he had been spotted, but one of the Councilmen pointed a crooked finger at her.
“You there! Forest girl! Speak quickly, have you seen any signs of this beast in the forest?”
Elowen’s face was tense, and she slowly shook her head. They believed her, of course. What sane woman would see a dragon and keep quiet about it?
They turned to the man once more, listening to his description of the dragon. Elowen knew he wasn’t lying to them, because he described Midas too accurately.
And then, as always, the Council acted.
“If a dragon remains,” one started, “it must be destroyed.”
Another added: “If it has already stolen from our fields, then it will not stop at livestock.”
They all agreed with each other, quietly discussing amongst themselves for a moment, before turning to Elowen’s father.
“We must lure it,” they said. “Healer, we require poison.”
Elowen’s throat tightened. Her father nodded obediently. “What kind?”
“A salve as potent as you can manage, enough to weaken the beast if not kill it, so we may finish the job by our own hands.” His eyes flicked to Elowen’s from under his mask. “You will help,” he commanded.
She said nothing, and quietly followed her father back into their home. He dug through dusty shelves for a while, pulling out an old tome Elowen had never seen him reference before. Her father opened it carefully, flipping through the stiff pages until he found what he was looking for. He straightened his broken glasses on the tip of his nose and fingered down the page as he read.
Without looking up, he began reading off ingredients, expecting Elowen to gather them. “Iron Ivyleaf. Widow’s tongue. Ashenshroom. Sap of Blackbark.” He looked up for a moment, scowling at her as she stood unmoving. “With haste, girl, we don’t have much time.”
He continued reading down the page of all the most toxic and deadly ingredients in their world. His words did not tremble, but every movement in Elowen’s body did.
She crushed the herbs, ground the roots, mixed theoils with the powders into a thick, muddy-colored salve that stung the hairs in her nostrils and made her eyes water.
When they were done, her father gathered the large bowl and had her follow him back out into the square where a sacrificial goat waited. It was tied to the whipping post, its eyes too large for its skull.
Elowen shook as her and her father dipped their hands into the bowl. They rubbed the salve across the goat’s hide, steady and even, coating its flank, its shoulder, its spine. No one spoke, but she knew they were being carefully watched by the Council.
Once it was coated in the poison, they demanded her and her father lead the goat to the tree line to let it free. She watched, trying her best to hide her tears as the forest swallowed it whole.
What had she done?
The scent of poison clung to her, and it made her sick. She was under the eyes of her father and the Council, and so no matter how badly she wanted to, she could not rush into the forest to warn Midas. Not yet, at least.
When the sun went down, she would sneak out, to find him. It was a long few hours for her, filled with anxiety and guilt unlike anything she had felt before. Her heart hammered in her ears, her skin itched, and her eyes remained wet with tears.
When she finally heard her father begin to snore, Elowen quietly snuck out of her little cottage. She could not leave through the front gates like normal, for the guards were keeping careful watch for the dragon. She had to climb up the rough stone wall and crawl over the top. It was dark,and her body was weak with hunger, but she forced herself to climb.
She had to let instinct bring her to the lake, for it was too dark to see and in her haste she had not thought to bring a torch or candle with her.
The forest was colder at night, and she tripped over branches she’d normally float over. She felt like she was being watched, but not in the protective kind way she felt when Midas was hiding in the trees. No. She felt threatened.
Her heart was lodged in her throat by the time she made it to the lake, barely lit by the crescent moon. It shimmered faintly beneath the cloudy sky.
