Part 1

The Return of James Torrance

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Staring  into the eyes of a Dragon, only a breath away, would intimidate most  anyone, human or not. But, somehow, Helen remained more curious than  afraid. Perhaps it was one of the visions she had when she first touched  the dragon, only moments ago. In what she eventually considered, a  quick glimpse into the future, she was certain she was flying with the  dragon in the dead of night and over some vast body of water. But when  she leaned over and looked down at the water just a few yards below, the  only reflection she could see in the lake was that of the dragon.

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Quickly  backing from the huge animal, she instantly rubbed her eyes and then  watched Pren tighten the cinch on the dragon’s saddle. But for Helen,  everything right now was excitedly new as the smelly, leather saddle old  Phagan’s daughter was working on. But even that wasn’t as exciting and  intimidating as the creature now only a few steps away and he was now  looking right at her. Just like a little bird staring into a great  snake’s eyes, she froze as she saw her reflection in his great, black  pupils. Then, in the blink of an eye, she was back above the moonlit  waters again with the wind rushing through her hair. The moon and  countless stars, on a background of black velvet, seemed to be both  above as well as below her. Leaning to her left, she looked along the  neck of the great animal, but could not find the horizon.

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~ * ~

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“Helen!” a loud voice, that seemed to echo around in her head, called.

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Helen rubbed her face and looked at Pren, standing right in front of her. The wind was gone, as well as the lake and the night.

“Are  you all right?” Borack Cliffspring asked. The red-haired senior dwarf  of Phagan’s Rift looked closely at her expression. His dark eyes  mirrored the smile under his walrus-like mustache.

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“I…I  think so,” Helen managed to say, brushing her shoulder-length, blonde  hair behind her left ear. “I think I just had a dream. I was already on  Pragamore. It was dark and we were flying over a huge body of water.”  She looked at Pren. “I don’t usually have dreams, especially in broad  daylight.”

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Quickly  looking about the huge, russet barn, Helen could tell she was still  standing quite close to the stairway leading down to where the old  wizard and his daughter, Prentis lived. The Rift, was a two-level home  built by the Dwarves for the Wizard Phagan. Cut directly into the  crevasse of a cliff overlooking Lake Horn, it was located at the western  edge of the forests of Dragon’s Haunt, considered the home of the last  Dragons of Whitestone Castle.

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Helen’s gaze slowly found its way to Borack. His smile widened, a gesture instantly reflected in his big, blue eyes.

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“All right,” Helen grumbled. “What’s going on? Was it a dream or wasn’t it? Who’s playing games with my mind?”

“Who but a wizard?” Pragamore said softly accompanied by a silent nod from Borack.

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“I  believe it’s called the ‘Dark See’, My Lady,” Borack said. It’s jus’  somethin’ wizards are able ta do now and then. “This bein’ your first  ride, I believe the Old One is tryin’ ta help ease the blow as it were.”

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“Indeed,” Pren agreed, still smiling at Helen. “In his humble way, I believe he was, encouraging you. Did you enjoy it?”

“Very much,” Helen amitted. “Why would he do that?”

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“Why?”  Pren laughed. “Who can understand the mind of a Wizard? As Borack said,  perhaps he sought to encourage you. Now, let’s see what you think of  the real thing.”

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Helen looked toward Borack. He was standing next to the first stirrup of the saddle and holding out his hand toward her.

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“You’ll  no regret it, My Lady,” he said softly, with that same, friendly smile.  “Just hold tight ta the saddle bar in front of you until ya learn ta  relax a bit,” he added.