With Boarif’s map, we reached the cave without any trouble. The path was tight and twisting, but easy enough to follow. Soon, we were coming up on Baubel, a small town at the edge of Thornwood.

  “So,” Revy said, narrowing her eyes at the treeline in the distance, “we’re still stuck on this side of the woods. Think those spiders are still out there?”

  Before anyone could answer, the smell hit us.

  It smelled like rot and old socks soaked in vinegar. We all pulled back in disgust.

  “Ugh!” Talvan gagged, clamping a hand over his nose. “What could cause that reek?”

  Leryea did the same, pulling up her scarf. “It smells cursed. What even is that?”

  Even Revy, usually unfazed, held her breath and whispered, “Don’t breathe too deep.”

  That’s when we saw it.

  Dozens of spider corpses lay scattered across the road and grass, twisted legs curled, greenish ichor leaking from shattered abdomens. Crows were already circling, landing to peck at the remains.

  “What happened here?” Leryea whispered.

  Revy tied a cloth over her mouth and nose, then pointed at one of the spider corpses. “Look at that. Those aren’t just bite marks; something big did this.”

  Talvan crouched down, his face darkening. “Whatever it was, it tore through here.

  Silence fell as we all stared, trying to make sense of the carnage.

  “Do you think it’s still around?” Leryea whispered, barely audible.

  Revy’s hand drifted to her staff. “If it is, let’s hope whatever it is, it’s friendly.”

  Eventually, the spiders' smell became unbearable.

  We hurried upwind, putting as much distance as we could between the reeking pile of dead spiders and us. Each step felt like wading through a foul, invisible fog. Only once we were well clear did we risk breathing deeply again, gulping in the clean air all at once.

  “Oh gods,” Talvan wheezed. “That was way too much.”

  “Somehow, I didn’t puke,” Leryea muttered, pulling down her scarf and fanning her face. “But I was close.”

  “Maybe someone in town saw what happened,” Revy said, trying to refocus. Talvan was still sucking in the fresh air like a man who’d never tasted clean wind before.

  “Let’s keep moving,” Revy said. We made sure to walk far around the spider graveyard. Still, every so often, the smell would catch us on the wind, and each time, we flinched.

  “It never gets better, does it?” Revy asked, hand clamped over her nose.

  “Nope,” Talvan said flatly. “Don’t think it ever will.”

  Eventually, we left the foul scene behind and made our way toward Baubel.

  A lone guard stood at the entrance, leaning casually on a weather-worn post. He barely glanced at us. No questions. No challenge. Just a long, bored look like he couldn’t be bothered.

  He didn’t even try to stop us.

  Inside Baubel, it was strangely quiet. Hardly anyone was outside. The few people we saw moved slowly, heads down or lost in thought. Their eyes didn’t show fear, but a kind of tired relief.

  Talvan approached one of the townsfolk, a weathered man with soot-streaked sleeves and the kind of tired posture that said he’d seen too many bad winters.

  “Excuse me,” Talvan asked, “do you know what happened in the forest? With all those dead spiders?”

  The man gave a slow nod. “That? Happened about a week ago now. We would've cleaned it up, but…” He wrinkled his nose. “That stench. Ugh. Dragon did leave a mess.”

  Talvan blinked. “What dragon?”

  That’s when Leryea jumped in, wide-eyed. “Wait, dragon?!”

  “Yeah,” the man said, scratching the back of his neck. “While the mail carrier was in town. Black dragon, huge thing. Didn’t even slow down. Just tore through the spider nests like they were made of paper. Hasn’t been a single one since.”

  “You’re saying it cleared the whole region?” Talvan asked.

  “Think so,” the man replied, glancing toward the Thornwood’s edge. “Spiders had been plaguing us for months, lost livestock, lost people. But that dragon? Wiped ‘em clean out. Not sure why it did it. Maybe it just didn’t like the smell either.”

  Revy frowned. “These bite marks… I think the dragon was eating them.”

  Talvan recoiled. “You sure? You’d have to be nose-blind to want to eat that.”

  Leryea made a face but added, “Well… they did say it happened about a week ago. Maybe by the time the dragon got to them, they didn’t smell as bad.”

  Revy and Talvan exchanged a look, both with the same grimace.

  “Still,” Talvan muttered, “that’s one bold dragon.”

  The old man nodded. “Whatever its reason, it took care of the spiders. Haven’t seen a single one since. We even sent Vivlen to scout the woods, him being an elf and all.”

  “You had an elf?” Leryea asked, surprised.

  “Yeah,” the man said. “Been here ever since the landslide cut off the road. Lives in the town now. If nothing’s gone wrong, he should be back by morning.”

  We looked up and saw the sun already setting, with Thornwood’s shadows stretching over the hills.

  “From Thornwood to Honiewood, Dustwarth, and now Baubel,” Talvan said, rubbing his legs, “all in one day.”

  “My legs are going to fall off,” Leryea groaned. She looked like she might collapse then and there.

  “Let’s find an inn,” Revy said, already walking. “Before we fall over in the street.”

  //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

  “Whooooy!” Chelly whooped as they rounded a bend in the air, the wind rushing past them and making her hair whip wildly behind her. “We’re going so fast!”

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  Damon grinned, keeping a steady hand on her as he watched Sivares glide. “Think you can handle a dive?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “A short one,” Sivares replied, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She climbed higher, wings stretching wide.

  “Ready?” she called back.

  Chelly nodded eagerly. “Ready!”

  “Hold on!” Damon warned, wrapping an arm around his little sister just before Sivares tucked her wings close and dropped.

  They dropped fast.

  The wind roared past them, tearing at Damon’s clothes and whipping Chelly’s hair straight back. Chelly screamed, not in fear, but pure, wild joy, as she threw her arms wide, embracing the plunge. Sivares folded her wings tighter, angling the dive, and the world blurred into streaks of green and gold.

  A flock of birds erupted beneath them, scattering with startled squawks as Sivares sliced through the air above them like a silver bolt.

  “Faster than ANYTHING!” Chelly shouted, laughter ripping free and carried off by the wind.

  Damon tightened his grip, adrenaline spiking through him, terror and exhilaration tangled into something fierce and electrifying. For an instant, nothing else existed. No farm. No earth. No worries.

  Just wind.

  Just speed.

  Just sky.

  And the three of them fell as they owned it.

  With a powerful snap and stretch of her wings, Sivares caught the wind and leveled out into a smooth, effortless glide. The abrupt transition from wild freefall to serene flight made Damon’s stomach somersault, and the roar of the wind faded to a gentle rush around them.

  “That was amazing!” Damon shouted over the breeze, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

  “YEAH!” Chelly whooped, practically vibrating with leftover adrenaline. “The dive was the BEST part!”

  “We’re almost over the farm now,” Damon said, pointing down at the patchwork of fields blurring beneath them.

  “Aww… is it over already?” Chelly pouted, her shoulders slumping in disappointment.

  “Yeah, sorry. We promised Mom and Dad, just one lap,” Damon reminded her gently.

  Chelly leaned forward, peering down at the tiny shapes and colors below. Her eyes widened, wonder blooming all over her face. “It looks so small from up here… is that really our house? And, wait,”

  She gasped, pointing. All of it?”

  “Yup. See the old tree by the road? The barn? It all fits.”

  “Oh! Look, it’s Midnight!” she pointed at the goat pen below.

  As they passed overhead, the family’s black-and-white goat let out a dramatic bleat and flopped over with theatrical flair.

  “She’ll be fine,” Damon said with a nervous chuckle. “She always does that when surprised.”

  Sivares let out a low, tired grunt as she began to descend in a slow spiral. With one final glide, she touched down smoothly near the barn, the soft thump of her feet kicking up a puff of dust.

  They landed safely on the ground.

  Chelly slid off first, laughing and breathing hard. “That was the best thing ever!”

  Damon followed Chelly toward the house, keeping a steadying hand on her shoulder in case her knees decided to give out again. He glanced back at Sivares, who was still crouched low in the yard, wings spread, sides rising and falling with heavy breaths.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah…” Sivares murmured, eyes half-lidded. “Just pushed a little too hard on that last dive. Give me a minute, and I’ll be perfect.”

  “Take it easy,” Damon said, giving her scales a gentle pat. “Still, pretty impressive show up there.”

  She huffed in mock indignation, a warm puff of breath rippling the grass. “Majestic creatures do not half-fly, Damon.”

  Chelly practically vibrated beside him. “Can we do that again sometime? Please?”

  Damon grinned. “Oh, definitely.”

  She shot off toward her parents like a firework.

  “Mom! Dad! Did you SEE that? We went all the way over the farm! Everything looked so tiny from up there!”

  Mary laughed as she tried to tame Chelly’s windblown hair. “Sounds like you had quite the adventure, sweetheart.”

  “I saw the barn, the apple tree, and Midnight! She fell right over when we swooped past!” Chelly said, giggling so hard she nearly doubled over.

  Damon looked to Marcus, who was lingering a short distance back, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

  “Hey,” Damon called, “once Sivares catches her breath, want a turn? She’s gentle. Promise.”

  Marcus immediately raised both hands and took a step back. “Nope. Nope. I’m good. Ground and I are on excellent terms, thank you.”

  Sivares snorted at that, amused despite her exhaustion.

  Damon laughed. “Fair enough.”

  “So,” Marcus added, “what are you two doing next?”

  “Well, we’ve got a pile of commissions waiting and a few orders we placed while out on the road,” Damon said. “But Sivares is pretty worn out from the trip, so we’re planning to rest a bit. Maybe just some light flying around the area, short hops, nothing crazy.”

  Just then, a little shape scampered up Damon’s back, poking her head out from under his collar. Keys chittered cheerfully, and Damon reached up to let her climb onto his palm.

  “How was the tour?” Damon asked with a crooked grin.

  “Seeing where you grew up? It was… an adventure,” Keys replied, nestling onto his shoulder and curling up like a contented cat. “It’s sweet here. Feels safe. And your family’s lovely.”

  “They like you, too,” Damon said, giving her a gentle tap on the head. “Even if you nearly had Chelly setting the house on fire.”

  “I only did a tiny sparkle!” Keys protested indignantly. “She’s just a natural-born chaos gremlin.”

  Mary’s voice came from behind them, arch and amused: “I heard that.”

  Keys froze. “...I regret nothing.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “If you ask me,” Sivares muttered, stretching out her wings with a crack, “I’m ready for some sleep.” She let out a long, low yawn, revealing a mouth full of very sharp teeth.

  Marcus instinctively took a step back. “Yeesh, uh, right. Sleep sounds good.”

  “Oh! Sorry,” Sivares said quickly, folding her wings in and ducking her head slightly. “Didn’t mean to scare you. Just tired.”

  Jim scratched the back of his head. “So… you're staying in the barn again?”

  “If it’s okay with you?” she asked.

  “It’s fine,” Jim said, giving a small smile. “Just don’t snore too loud, or the chickens’ll riot.”

  With a soft chuckle, Sivares turned and made her way toward the barn, tail swaying lazily behind her. “I’m calling it early, Damon.”

  “That’s okay,” Damon said, watching her go. “See you tomorrow.”

  The dragon gave a sleepy wave with one wing before nudging the barn doors open with her snout.

  As Sivares disappeared into the barn, Marcus leaned in, lowering his voice. “I know she’s your friend, but those teeth could haunt my nightmares.”

  Damon flashed a lopsided grin. “Yeah, but I’d rather have her guarding us than on the other side.”

  The family filed into the old farmhouse, the familiar scent of aged wood and old memories wrapping around them. Damon reached into his coat and pressed a small coin pouch into his father’s hand.

  “That’s about twenty bronze coins,” he said quietly. “It should help if you want to hire some extra help for the fields.”

  Jim stared at the pouch, taken aback. “Damon, you sure?”

  “Yeah,” Damon nodded. “I was never exactly great at farm work anyway.”

  Chelly giggled. “Yeah, didn’t Old Daisy kick you in the face once?”

  “Still missing the tooth,” Damon said, tapping the gap with a wry smile.

  Marcus smirked. “And you’re the only person I know who somehow caused the chickens to revolt. I think one of them still remembers.”

  “Yeah,” Damon laughed, shaking his head. “Every time I tried feeding them, that one hen would go out of her way to peck my ankles. Like it had a personal vendetta.”

  “Well,” Jim said, still weighing the pouch in his hand, “we appreciate it. Even if your talents clearly lie elsewhere.”

  “I still want to help however I can,” Damon replied. “And being a courier... it finally feels like the right fit.”

  His mother smiled warmly. “Well, you’ve certainly flown far, Damon. But it’s good to know you still land home sometimes.”

  The sun had dipped below the hills, painting the sky in warm oranges and dusky purples. A breeze rustled through the tall grass, and the smell of the fields drifted in through the open windows.

  Damon sat on the back porch with a warm cup of tea, legs stretched out, watching fireflies start to flicker over the fields. Keys was curled up next to him on the railing, softly snoring as the day’s excitement caught up to her.

  The old wooden boards creaked as someone stepped out behind him. Marcus.

  “You always end up out here,” Marcus said, handing him a fresh biscuit from the kitchen.

  Damon accepted it with a nod. “Always liked the view. It doesn’t change much.”

  “Unlike you,” Marcus said, leaning on the railing. “Flying dragons. Magic mice. Traveling halfway across the kingdom. You ever think we’d end up here again, drinking tea and watching bugs light up the yard?”

  “Not really,” Damon said. “Honestly, I thought I’d be stuck delivering letters between three towns for the rest of my life. But the world’s bigger than I thought.”

  Marcus gave a short chuckle. “Just don’t forget where you started.”

  “Couldn’t if I tried,” Damon said, looking toward the barn. He could just make out the outline of Sivares, tail flicking as she shifted in her sleep. “This place is part of me. You all are.”

  They sat quietly for a while, surrounded by the gentle sounds of the night.

  Then Marcus asked, “You heading out again soon?”

  “Not right away,” Damon answered. “Figured we’d stay here a few days. Let Sivares rest up. Let Keys run wild. Maybe help out around the farm.”

  “You mean make peace with the chicken?” Marcus smirked.

  Damon raised his tea. “I’ll bring a white flag.”

  From inside, Chelly’s laughter rang out, followed by their mother’s voice telling her to get ready for bed. The last light of the sun was casting a golden glow across the two brothers.

  “Feels good to be home,” Damon said softly.

  Marcus didn’t say anything. He just nodded and stayed there with him, as the stars began to appear, one by one.