“And they’re all gone now?”
Blake began to busy himself at the counter. “Yes.”
His voice was rough, and she sensed the hurt and desolation in it. She moved a little bit closer. “All that’s left are those that are in the village?”
That village wasn’t small; there were at least a couple thousand people within it. But it was small in comparison to how many humans had once been there. Blake took out a wheel of delicious-looking cheese and began to slice it with a sharp knife. His forehead wrinkled. “I once suggested that we start some sort of campaign to bring more humans here, but none of the others were for it. It’s not just that we need humans, because in all honesty, we don’t really need them at all. It’s that there are any number of humans who are seeking a better place and who have no opportunity to find it over there in your world. I mean, just think about it, all those people that want to live off the grid and make a new life, all those people who believe in us still, all the people who are running away from unfairness and war. We could bring them here…” He looked up at her. “Of course, if we did it now they would just be running right into a war that involves Orcs. But it’s still a good idea.”
“It is.” She studied him. If they didn’t need humans, why did he want to bring them into the world then? She said, “What made you think of it?”
Blake said, “This place can get lonely. The others, especially the older councilmembers, they’re so use to it, that they don’t notice it. Or they’re just so old they don’t want kids on their lawn, as they say in your world.”
She leaned closer to him, plucking what looked like a grape up off the counter and popping it into her mouth. She chewed slowly before asking, “Did you go into my world a lot?”
He nodded. “It was easier a few hundred years ago. Hell, it was easier a hundred years ago. Ever since your kind found that magic that you use to always talk into those little bricks and so on, it’s harder. There’s too much noise, and people move too fast.
“The only good part about that is that everybody is so busy looking down at the things they are holding in their hands that they don’t really notice who’s walking right beside them. A hundred years ago, people would always spot us. Oh, they would not know us as dragons, but they knew that we were strangers, or that we were somehow different. Back then I guess people paid more attention.”
She said, “Yeah we have a tendency to hide behind her cell phones and other things now.”
He asked, “Why do you do that?”
She said, “It’s how we keep up with what’s going on in the world.”
He asked, “Wouldn’t you be better off just being a part of the world instead of just reading about it on those things?”
That was a logic she couldn’t dispute or deny. “Probably. We probably would. But we’ve been mostly trained to accept that is our reality now.”
He deadpanned, “Reality is what you make it.”
Boy, he wasn’t kidding. She was standing in a house in a world vastly different than her own and talking to a man who was, despite his outward appearance, a dragon. That that was an actual reality boggled her mind. He rummaged along an open shelf and took down a wooden board with a handle. She recognized it as a breadboard and she asked, “Do you need some help?”
He shook his head. “It’s just bread and cheese, a little fruit. I can cook and do, but I hadn’t planned to. It’s a light meal, but dinner will be in a few hours anyway.”
He produced a small bottle and said, “I’m afraid I don’t have any glasses though.”
She watched as he pulled the cork from it before saying, “I don’t mind drinking from the bottle.”
She carried the bottle, and he carried the board to the sofa. They set those things down on the table and then began to tuck into the small but filling repast. They passed the bottle back and forth between them. The wine was very velvety and very smooth, not quite a red but not a rose either. Whatever it was, it was quite delicious. The bread was filled with grains and nuts, the texture slightly coarse and its outer crust very crispy while its insides were soft and chewy. The cheese was tangy, but there was a small bit of sweetness below that bite that lay on her tongue after the cheese melted away.
She asked, “Will there be a war with the Orcs?”
He didn’t sugarcoat it. “Yes. Sooner rather than later. We will never banish them completely. Evil never would actually die. Sometimes it slinks away into the shadows. But if we can simply run them to the other end of the world, figure out a way to keep them from encroaching on our borders and from killing us and our people, even that would be a victory.”
She chewed another of the rich, purple grapes. “When the wizard created this place, he created the Orcs as well?”
He shook his head. “They are sort of a byproduct of his evil. When you use magic from evil, it throws off…” He frowned and licked his lips then tried again. “It’s like the spell is there and it’s all one thing but on the edges of it are these little sparks. Those little sparks go flying here, there, and everywhere. You can never tell where they will end up or what they will be. In his case, those little sparks became Orcs.”
She asked, “But just Orcs?”
His smile was not pleasant. “No. We had ogres and trolls too. Those we managed to kill into extinction though.”
My God. The things he had had to battle against in his life. She dusted her fingers together and asked, “Did you fight against them?”
He nodded. “I had a sword in my hand before I could really even walk. My father was a soldier, a knight in your world. He was from a different time than you. Back then, war was not something people dreaded and hoped didn’t happen. It was a fact of life. The world was new, and people took power and possession the only way they knew how to: at the points of swords and with the help of armies.”
She admitted, “They might not use swords anymore but other than that, not much has changed.”
Blake said, “Will you please tell me why you really came back?”
The abrupt change in the conversation sent her mind reeling from one easy answer to the other. She looked down at her fingers, unsure if she could admit to him the reason for her arrival there. “Maybe, but not right now. Okay?”
If he was disappointed, it didn’t show. He said, “Would you like a lesson on the pianoforte?”
She gave the instrument a long look. The truth was she would have liked that very much, but she was not totally sure that she should spend any more time alone with him right now. The attraction between them was obvious. That he was angling for something was even more obvious. She just wasn’t sure what it was he wanted. Or maybe she was too clear on what he wanted. She said, “Maybe another day. I should probably get back. I guess you need to get back as well.”
He nodded. Probably.
Neither of them moved, however. She wanted to kiss him. More, she wanted to make love to him. Not just have sex, not just hook up, but well and truly make love to him. She couldn’t voice those desires without letting him know her true reasons for coming back though, and what was more, she just didn’t trust herself at that moment.
Here, in this house, he was so less guarded. He was almost like an entirely different person, and she wasn’t sure if that was an act or if the person she had met before was an act. Either way, sleeping with him at that moment would be a mistake. She knew that, so why did she feel so disappointed when they were back in the air and headed back toward the castle?
