Close Encounters of the Magical Kind Read online

  Lissa, clutching her father’s right arm, looked spectacular. Sarah sighed wistfully. The bride was a sight to behold. She was wearing a sparkling light blue gown that had a high back and a square front neckline. The upper sleeves of the dress were fitted with the lower sleeves being very full and double layered with velvet and lace. As the father and daughter duo passed her Sarah also noted that Lissa’s dress had lacing on both the front and back.

  “How did Lissa handle the news when she was told it was her wedding today?” Steve whispered in her ear.

  “Surprisingly well,” Sarah answered, keeping her voice low. “If you ask me, I think she knew. She’s a very bright girl.”

  “It’s a strange custom,” Steve added, “not telling the bride when her wedding day will be. That wouldn’t go over well back on our world.”

  “True,” Sarah decided. “It all worked out. Besides, I think she might have been tipped off.”

  “By who?” Steve asked.

  “The queen. Did you see them just now? Ny’Callé just winked at Lissa.”

  Steve nodded, “Nice. Good for her. Look at the grin Mikal has on his face. They make a good pair.”

  Mikal had appeared and was beaming his approval as Lissa and her father approached. Fensham swatted aside Mikal’s outstretched arm and pulled him in for a bear hug. Wiping the corners of his eyes with the back of his hand, the constable lifted the veil covering his daughter’s face, kissed her tenderly on her cheek, and took his seat next to Callé.

  “Friends and family,” Shardwyn began, raising his voice so that he could be heard, “we are gathered here today to witness the union of these two young people, Kre’Mikal, son of Kri’Entu and Ny’Callé, to Lissa, the lovely daughter of Constable Fensham of Capily.”

  The wizard paused for a few moments to give his audience a chance to applaud.

  “The union of two souls is not an arrangement to be taken lightly,” Shardwyn intoned, clearly reciting from memory a script he had recently memorized. “Your companion will be standing by your side, throughout your worst times and your best…”

  Steve leaned close and started whispering.

  “Have you ever noticed that music played at weddings often resembles the music that is played for soldiers going into battle? Oooof!”

  Sarah had elbowed him in the gut. Hard. Maelnar, sitting nearby, snorted loudly. Sarah gave the dwarf a neutral stare.

  “Allergies,” Maelnar sniffed, rubbing his nose.

  “Mm-hmm. Keep quiet.”

  “Sorry,” Steve apologized.

  “And I,” Maelnar agreed, winking at Steve.

  Sarah sighed and reached out to take her husband’s hand. Steve, alerted to imminent danger, promptly sat on both of his. She tapped his leg and waited for him to put his hand in hers. The moment he did she dug in her nails. Steve’s eyes began to water.

  “Is that necessary?” Steve whispered.

  “You’re missing the ceremony,” Sarah coolly informed him. “Mikal is about to take his vows.”

  “Kre’Mikal. Will you have this woman to be your wedded wife, to live together as a joined couple?”

  “I will,” Mikal answered as he smiled at Lissa.

  “Will you love her, comfort her, keep her in sickness and in health, and hold her in the highest honor for she will one day be your queen, for so long as you both shall live?”

  “I will,” Mikal vowed.

  “Young Lissa,” Shardwyn began, turning to Mikal’s fiancé. “Will you have this man to be your wedded husband, to live together as a joined couple?”

  Lissa nodded, “I will.”

  “Will you love him, honor him, and keep him in sickness and in health, and hold him in the highest honor for he will one day be your king, for so long as you both shall live?”

  “I will, always and forever,” Lissa answered.

  “You may exchange your rings now,” Shardwyn announced.

  “What?” Steve whispered again. “They exchange rings at the same time?”

  “This is Lentari, not Idaho,” Sarah scolded. “Things are clearly different here. Now shush!”

  “Kre’Mikal, repeat after me,” Shardwyn intoned. “I, Kre’Mikal, take thee Lissa to my wedded wife, to have and to hold…”

  Mikal carefully repeated the words.

  “…to love and to cherish, until death do us part…”

  As Mikal repeated the words, Sarah smiled and released her death grip of Steve’s hand. She nudged him and indicated Mikal’s face. Both Mikal and Lissa only had eyes for each other. Steve smiled, nodded, and kissed her hand.

  Husband and wife watched and listened as Shardwyn walked Lissa through the same dialogue. Once she had repeated her vow for Mikal to hear Shardwyn leaned forward and whispered something to each of them. Mikal grinned while Lissa giggled.

  “By the powers vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. My prince, you may kiss your princess!”

  A round of applause went up as Mikal and Lissa embraced and shared their first kiss.

  “I present to you Kre’Mikal and Kre’Lissa, the prince and princess of Lentari!”

  Applause thundered from all sides. The dragons roared their approval, the griffins squawked, and the shealk… Sarah stared at the shealk delegation. Lord Phaedren and his contingent of water dragons were watching the proceedings in utter silence. Perhaps they were confused and really didn’t know what was going on? She shrugged. It didn’t matter. Mikal wanted Gareth there, and as much as Gareth wanted to deny it, the young wizard was part shealk. She could only guess that Lord Phaedren saw the wedding as an opportunity to remind everyone that the water dragons were there and that they were a force to contend with. Otherwise, Balthor could have undoubtedly spoken for Lord Phaedren.

  The applause continued well past the departure of the happy newlyweds down the aisle. Sarah looked anxiously down at Emerion, afraid that all the loud cheering and clapping might frighten the little griffin. Emerion continued to crouch low to the ground but was taking comfort in Peanut’s close proximity. Griffin and corgi were both lying side by side.

  “Now what?” Steve asked. “I assume there’s going to be some type of reception?”

  “The likes of which Topside has never seen,” Maelnar assured him.

  The dwarf hopped down from his seat and gazed admiringly up at the two of them.

  “Who better to supply the food for a feast than the dwarves? Trust me, my friends, no one can spit a roast better than us. Surely you’ll stay?”

  Right on cue a roar of applause sounded from behind them. Emerion immediately jumped up into Sarah’s arms. Maelnar clucked approvingly and held up a hand for the young griffin to sniff. After a few moments Emerion nuzzled the dwarf’s hand.

  “Maybe it’s me?” Steve softly grumbled.

  “It would appear that the party has started without us,” Maelnar said. “Come, my friends! I hear that our wyverian friends are giving us a treat! Dragon races!”

  Steve perked up, “Really? How cool! Who’s racing?”

  “Rhamalli and his rider were challenged by Bastillius.”

  “Who’s Bastillius?” Steve wanted to know.

  “Apparently he’s the top wyverian flyer,” Maelnar explained. “He’ll be the bronze dragon sitting by himself in the back.”

  Sarah shaded her eyes and peered at the unusually colored dragon.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bronze dragon before.”

  “He’s the only one,” a new voice added.

  Husband and wife turned to find a friendly face. It was Maelnar’s one and only son, Breslin. He was wearing the same the same dark armor as the rest of the dwarves of the Kla Guur, but differentiating himself from the rest of his clan were two unique weapons. Strapped to Breslin’s back was a dark red, dual-bladed battle axe. The second weapon was resting in a loop on Breslin’s belt. The hammer, none other than the famous Narian power hammer he had helped discover a few years before, swung lightly on his belt, as though it weighed no more t
han a feather.

  “Hey there, Breslin,” Steve greeted. “It’s good to see you, buddy.”

  Breslin bowed, “And you, my friend. So, are you wagering?”

  “On which dragon will win? Sure! I have to go with Rhamalli, being a dragon rider myself.”

  A cough sounded from nearby. Everyone looked over to see Maelnar reaching into his money pouch and withdrawing several pieces of gold.

  “Five gold pieces.”

  Breslin grinned, “You’re making a wager? Excellent, father. Which dragon?”

  “Rhamalli, of course. A dragon with a rider will win every time.”

  Hearing peals of laughter and lively music coming from just up the hill, Sarah wrapped Peanut’s leash around her wrist and called for Emerion to follow. With Steve keeping an eye on the young griffin, they decided to mingle with the guests. She knew her husband wanted to meet a shealk in person so she automatically veered towards the water. As they neared the shore she could see that several of the shealk had gone, but most of them were still there, including the sparkling red water dragon who was their leader.

  The red shealk had just reemerged from the water after rinsing his eyes when Sarah and her procession stopped in front of them. The shealk leader’s eyes flicked over to hers and stayed there. After a few moments the large shealk head nodded.

  “Greetings, humans.”

  Sarah curtsied the same time as her husband bowed.

  “Lord Phaedren. It is an honor. I am Sarah, and this is my husband, Steve.”

  The red shealk’s eyes widened with surprise.

  “You are the Nohrin. I have heard of you.”

  Steve blinked a few times before he shared a look with his wife.

  “You have? If you don’t mind me asking, how? You’re a water dragon. It’s not like we run in the same circles.”

  “It just so happens that we shealk have a wizard that can’t seem to keep his tail in the water,” Lord Phaedren said. “Balthor’s son, Gareth, is a human wizard, who just so happens to be friends with the human prince getting married today. So that would mean… it would mean…”

  “It would mean you really don’t care one way or the other?” Steve guessed, finishing the red shealk’s train of thought.

  “Not one bit,” Lord Phaedren admitted. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

  “Your secret is safe with us,” Sarah assured the water dragon.

  “Say, how fast can you guys swim?” Steve suddenly asked as he caught a glimpse of the water dragon’s sinewy body underwater.

  “We are unmatched in the water,” Lord Phaedren assured him. “The only exception being the great serpents who thankfully live far to the east.”

  “The oskorlisk,” Steve agreed. “I’ve seen those things up close. Way too close, if you ask me. You’re right. You don’t want to tangle with one of them.”

  “You’ve encountered an oskorlisk in person?” Lord Phaedren asked, stunned. “In what regard, may I ask?”

  “Pryllan and I participated in the Hunt a few years ago. It would seem a wager had been cast, namely who performed better? Dragons with riders or dragons who didn’t carry riders.”

  “This Hunt was not sanctioned by me,” Sarah told the shealk, throwing her husband a dirty look. “Nevertheless, they did end up winning the bet. They even found a red oskorlisk and retrieved a silver fang. I think that was probably the main reason why more dragons are interested in riders lately.”

  “Fascinating,” Lord Phaedren breathed. “I have often considered coming up with some type of competition for my own shealk, only I have no idea what.”

  “An obstacle course,” Steve immediately answered. “You say you’re fast swimmers? Throw some obstacles in the way and see how well you do.”

  “Obstacles?” Lord Phaedren repeated, curious. “Like what?”

  “Oh, how about swimming through a shipwreck? Or swimming through an underwater canyon? I’d look for that type of thing. Then, whoever can do it in the quickest time would be the winner.”

  “An interesting idea, human,” Lord Phaedren decided. “I will reflect on the matter. Out of curiosity, why do you want to know how fast a shealk can swim?”

  “Water skiing.”

  Sarah smacked his arm, “What? Water skiing? You can’t ask a shealk to pull you through the water like that. That’d be insulting, dear.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  “You’re that fast in the water?” Steve asked again, suddenly smiling.

  “Aye,” Lord Phaedren confirmed. “Why?”

  “I have a proposition.”

  Sarah groaned, “Oh, Lord. This ought to be rich.”

  ****

  “The first wyverian to land a strike is the winner!” Breslin was shouting. “The contest is over if after ten minutes neither shealk have been touched.”

  “Do not be offended if our winged brethren are unable to hit anything,” Lord Phaedren chided. “No one can match a shealk in our own element.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Rhamalli vowed. He lowered himself to the ground and allowed Pheron to climb up his back. “My rider and I will score the first hit. There’s no way a riderless wyverian will strike first.”

  “Challenge accepted,” a deep voice thundered.

  Everyone turned to see a large bronze dragon strut his way to the front of the procession. Comments were thrown about. Wagers were cast. Nearly a dozen different conversations erupted all across the waterfront.

  “You’re sure a strike by the wyverians will not hurt you?” Breslin asked for the fifth time, looking up at the glittering shealk leader. “I’ve witnessed firsthand the power of a wyverian blast.”

  “We are as armored as our winged brethren,” Lord Phaedren assured him. “Fear not. No one will be scoring a hit on any of my shealk.”

  “Are you ready?” Breslin asked, pulling his hammer from his belt. He was standing next to a large metal gong that had been suspended from a pole set in the ground. “On your marks.”

  The two dragons, bronze and red, crouched low. Their muscles bunched as they waited to launch themselves into the air. The two shealk, one black and one dark green, readied themselves just past the piers, facing open water.

  “Remember, no submerging,” Breslin hastily reminded the two shealk. “You must stay on the surface.”

  “Yes, yes, we know,” Lord Phaedren said impatiently. “Do get on with it. I cannot wait to tell Kahvel the outcome of this contest.”

  “Of that, I have no doubts,” Breslin smirked. “And now, I’ll say… go!”

  The surface of the water had turned choppy. Of the shealk, there were no signs. It was if both water dragons had simply dipped below the surface. However, Sarah knew that wasn’t the case. She figured the shealk were both good swimmers, only she never realized how good. Both shealk were already nearly a half mile out to sea and, incredibly enough, gaining in speed.

  Both Rhamalli and Bastillius launched themselves up into the air, spread their gigantic wings, and took off after the shealk. What followed was an impressive aerial demonstration as each dragon fired blast after blast at the fleeing shealk, only to see each blast bounce harmlessly off the surface of the ocean. Lord Phaedren was right. His shealk were more than a match for their aerial cousins. Not one wyverian landed a hit.

  Ten minutes later Breslin announced the end of the contest, much to the delight of the shealk. Rhamalli was unconcerned. Apparently he had been impressed by the dexterity of the shealk and their amazing speed in the water. Bastillius was somewhat more annoyed but he took his loss with the grain of salt. He politely congratulated the two shealk before departing for the Bohanis.

  More games followed. The dwarves introduced their favorite pastime, rebekar, a type of tile and dice game of chance. Surprisingly enough the griffins excelled at the game, being much more able to watch the rapid hand movements involved when shuffling the tiles. Naturally the dwarves were less than amused.

  As soon as the dwarves called for a rematch Sarah felt a pre
sence behind her. She turned to find Mikal and Lissa standing quietly nearby, watching the game between the dwarves and the griffins. Lissa looked up, met her eyes, and gave her a hug.

  “It’s all so magical!”

  “What is?” Sarah asked. “Being married or seeing all these species interacting peacefully with one another?”

  “Both. If it wasn’t for you and Steve I would never be here.”

  “Sure you would,” Steve contradicted, coming up to lay a friendly hand on the young bride’s shoulder. “You would have caught Mikal’s eye regardless of what we would have done.”

  Lissa shook her head, “No, silly. I meant, if it wasn’t for the two of you then I would have never made it out of the past. You rescued me when you rescued Sarah. For that, I will be eternally grateful.”

  “For the record, it was a group effort,” Sarah reminded the teenager. “But you’re welcome all the same.”

  Mikal looked down at Emerion, squatted down next to the young griffin, and held out his hand. Peanut was instantly on her feet and weaving through his legs. Curious as to what his packmate was doing, Emerion cautiously rose to his feet and sniffed at Mikal’s outstretched hand. After a few moments both griffin and corgi were darting playfully between Mikal’s legs, pausing only long enough to hide behind Lissa’s dress.

  “Isn’t he just the cutest thing!” Lissa exclaimed, leaning down to pet the young griffin.

  Emerion squeaked contentedly and rubbed up against Lissa’s leg.

  Steve frowned, “Okay, it’s definitely me. That griffin lets everyone else come up to him but me. What, do I have B.O.?”

  “B.O.?” Lissa repeated, confused.

  “He thinks he stinks,” Mikal translated.

  Lissa and Sarah burst out in giggles.

  “I never said I did,” Steve argued, “only that maybe there was a teeny tiny chance that I did.”

  “Where’d you get him?” Mikal asked.

  “It’s a long story,” Sarah said.

  Just then there was a shout. Someone was shouting a warning, but of what? A quick check of the area had people pointing down at the marina. Round 2 of the shealk/wyverian battle was happening and one of the shealk had just swum through the piers at high speed. The resulting wave was tossing some of the smaller ships around like they were toys. A wave of water washed over the piers and headed their direction. Thankfully the wave wasn’t that high and only made it a few feet up the embankment.