Whatever it was she felt in Gretel, Aspen was feeling even stronger upon walking into 42 Wayward Crescent. Warm, yes. Oh, it was so warm and felt so good. Odd, once again yes. No dragons though and the warmth would not be coming from them anyway. But they had to be around. Their maker lived here.
"Our rooms are all taken, so you will have to sleep on the couch," said Mrs. Pennykettle after introductions were complete and the front door had been closed. "I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all," Aspen said with genuine enthusiasm. "For free, I'll happily take it. Thanks for allowing me to stay, Mrs. Pennykettle. And thank you Zanna for the offer."
"Oh, call me Liz. I'll have dinner ready in a bit. Then I might show you something special."
"Special?"
Liz nodded. "Zanna said you like dragons, but didn't find one to your liking in her shop."
Aspen nodded slightly. "They all are wonderful, ma'am. I don't want you to think I don't like what you made. I just couldn't see myself buying those."
"No, I don't think that at all. You are waiting for the right dragon, that's all."
That made her feel better. "That actually makes a lot of sense. I look forward to later."
"Good."
As Liz disappeared into another room, presumably the kitchen, Zanna showed her the couch in the living room and the TV remote, then disappeared to another part of the house. Not interested in the TV, and having no idea what channels would be available here, Aspen looked around at the room. It had looked recently dusted. Not a thing looked dirty or out of place. Everyone here must have cleaned up the house ahead of my arrival. Which was impressive, but maybe Liz and the others routinely worked to keep everything tidy.
Then she noticed a dragon sculpture on a shelf, facing her. Not as prideful looking as Gretel, nor as large, but not a wimpy thing either. It had a kind expression on its face.
She did notice something about its tail: the end was slightly wet and dirty. Elsewhere in the room sat several houseplants. Deep green and very healthy plants. Could the dragon be an ornate soil meter? Perhaps molded into the clay was a cavity for such a device. Seems like the kind of thing someone with a green thumb and the skill to sculpt beautiful clay dragons would do.
Next to it sat a tiny watering can, the perfect size for the dragon to hold.
"You must be a gardening dragon," Aspen said to the clay dragon. "You're doing a better job than I can ever do."
It's not like the dragon could understand her, right? Talking to an inanimate sculpture was not much different from talking to a cat. Well, a cat might react or respond if it chose to.
And yet, she thought she saw a glint of pride in its green eyes. As she scooted closer, she also noted a quick flash of purple in its eyes. And they seemed to move, just like Gretel's.
"You look wonderful, just like Gretel. I hope your sculptor can find me a dragon as wonderful as you."
"I was thinking more that I would make you one," said Liz, entering the room with a tray in her hands. "That's Gwillan. If he could understand you, he would beam with joy at your kind words."
The tray was set on the table and Aspen noted its contents. Tea and cookies. She resisted the urge to cringe; she did not like tea or any warm beverage besides hot chocolate. This was not her house though, and these people were being kinder to her than they needed to. She would be as polite as she should be.
Leaning forward and grabbing the mug and a cookie, careful to keep the cookie over the plate to not drop crumbs, she asked, "making a dragon? Is there enough time? I thought kilning clay takes a day or two."
"That's the best way to give you a dragon that perfectly suits you. I don't know you well yet so you being around will help me. And don't worry about time. It can always be mailed to your house if you leave first. I have packaging and a box. Since my daughter set up a website for me to sell my sculptures, I've done a lot of mailing."
"Oh, that would work. But isn't that too much trouble for someone like me? I should be the one doing stuff for you. You're too kind."
Liz smiled. "Oh, don't worry about that. It's a pleasure to have you here and I would love to make you a dragon. I've made dragons for others in the past. Including a former tenant."
The smile faded when Liz said "former tenant." There was a hint of sadness in her voice and the brightness in her vivid eyes dimmed. Aspen frowned. "Former tenant?" What happened to them?
She nodded. "A young man, a college student, maybe a little younger than you, answered my offer to have a tenant live here. He's a published author, though right after he finished his second story, he traveled to the Arctic, the setting for that story, and perished tragically."
"I'm sorry then," Aspen said, ashamed. "I shouldn't have asked."
"You didn't know. He was the last person I made a dragon specifically for. He named his dragon Gadzooks, and Gadzooks was a special dragon indeed. I hope your dragon brings you as much joy. He said that Gadzooks helped to inspire him when he had trouble writing. We still have his dragon here, a reminder of the time he spent here."
"Wow, that's cool. He sounds like a good person and you must miss him. Would have been nice to meet him. I'll have to look for his books."
"If you end up spending more time here than you thought, I'll have Zanna take you to the bookstore so you can buy a copy of each."
Aspen nodded and took a sip from the mug and was surprised that the tea tasted okay. Not as good as a glass of milk or orange juice, but she could easily pretend to like it. Liz left the room, leaving Aspen alone to wait for dinner and to look at the little dragon named Gwillan. And thinking of the man who once lived here, whose name she did not know, who wrote books with the help of one of Liz's dragon sculptures.
All of the Pennykettle dragons who were out of sight of the visitor were in an uproar as Gretel told them what she experienced. Except for Gwillan, Gruffen, and the listener, as well as a few others, all were gathered in the Dragon's Den. Many scales had rattled when Gretel admitted she did not know what made Aspen special.
"She knows nothing about dragons," Gretel hurred forcefully, settling an argument. "And nothing about us. So she would not know why she has dragon auma. She would not know what auma is."
"Then how would she know you from the others?" G'reth asked.
"Whatever she is, she does not know. And neither do we," Gretel said as she pulled some flowers from her quiver. She noticed looks of fear in many of the dragons gathered around her and she ignored them. They should fear her, after all, but she had more important things to think about. "She just has a gut feeling and confusion. But she sounds talkative."
Quickly she fashioned the flowers into three wristbands sized for Pennykettle dragons. Gretel slipped one onto her wrist, then gave one to Groyne and the other to Gruffen.
"You will give yours to the listener," she said to Gruffen."These help translate human-speak, as the stranger does not understand or speak dragontongue. Make sure you do not miss a word."
Groyne cocked his head. "You want me to spy on the stranger?"
Gretel nodded and began to detail her plan and what else was planned for the evening. Nearly every dragon hurred in surprise when she said Liz was going to make the stranger a dragon. Not a special one like them, but an inanimate one like the ones Liz sold online and the ones Sanna sold in her shop. Everyone sighed in relief until Gretel shook her head.
"That means what time we have here is all we have. No dragon will follow her to report back."
Another dragon who had remained silent thus far spoke up. Golly. "Why must we study her so? You said she is not Fain or a sibyl."
Annoyed, Gretel snorted a smoke ring at the healing dragon. "We do not know what she is. My guess is something similar to Liz and Lucy, but faint. But if she has dragon in her, she could draw unwanted attention to herself… and us."
Golly visibly gulped. "But if we figure out what the stranger is, how will it be explained to her?"
Gretel blew another smoke ring. Liz and Zanna did not want to reveal anything to the stranger. Arthur and Lucy would likely be hesitant. That left only Alexa, who was being kept away from the stranger and might be too young for the task.
"I don't know," she reluctantly hurred.
Lucy smiled to herself when Zanna said she would eat in her room with Alexa. It was to keep the four-year-old from saying things about the dragons around the visitor that did not need to be said, at least not yet, but for Lucy, it meant much-needed time away from that sibyl.
When she sat down at the table, Aspen had already taken a seat and was silently waiting for dinner to be served. The visitor glanced at her and smiled.
"You must be Liz's daughter," Aspen said.
Lucy nodded.
"Not too many people with bright red hair and piercing green eyes like those. You both look like you could be sisters if not for the age difference."
She nodded again. With dinner arrangements all sorted out, it allowed her to wonder in the confines of her mind about what the dragons were feeling about Aspen. They all seem excited and curious, at least the ones out of sight of Aspen. There was nothing in the visitor's appearance that would connect her in any way to Guinevere besides the slight hints of red in her brown hair. The only sibyls she had ever met were Gwilanna and Zanna, but the latter had proven that distant descendants of Gwendolen were hard to identify. She trusted Gretel's judgment that Aspen did not have a Fain being inside her.
But Aspen could merely just be an exceptional person, much like Arthur and David were. Perhaps the visitor had met someone who had secretly or unknowingly awoken something deep within Aspen. Smugly, Lucy smiled to herself, knowing she found a possible explanation that Zanna had overlooked. She then pulled her phone from her pocket while waiting for dinner.
Before long, the physicist of the family shuffled in. It did not take long for the visitor to sense something wrong.
"Do you need help, sir," Aspen asked as Arthur felt for his chair.
"Ah, you must be Aspen," he said. "No, I am well. Blind, but I know my way around." True to his word, and of course he would not be lying, he sat down.
"Oh, dear. Let me know if you need help," said Aspen.
"It's quite alright. I've gotten used to it." He paused, and though the man could not see, Lucy watched as he pretended to look around at everyone gathered at the table. Which was just the three of them. "So Aspen, I suppose introductions are in order or has Zanna covered everyone yet?"
Lucy quietly groaned at the mention of the witch's name.
"She gave me names. You must be Arthur Merriman."
"Yes."
"She also said she had a young daughter named Alexa, but that she would be keeping Alexa away to not bother me. I feel bad about that though."
Resisting the temptation to roll her eyes, Lucy looked at Aspen before returning her gaze to her phone.
"Alexa has a tendency to babble about the dragons Liz makes," Arthur said carefully. "Her imagination seems to know no bounds and she weaves stories and the like that suggest these clay statues are real, living dragons. We didn't want her to talk your ears off."
"They do seem to have an effect. The dragons, that is. Well, mainly Gretel and Gwillan. The others in the shop didn't feel the same."
Lucy looked up again. The visitor didn't even have green eyes. She could not feel what Gretel felt. And yet, Aspen could differentiate Gretel and Gwillan from the others. No wonder the dragons were hurring about her.
"Hm, interesting. What exactly do you feel in those two dragons?"
"Uh, like their eyes could move and change color, but that has to be a trick of the light. Something in the glaze, I'd imagine. And something else, something I can't identify. Maybe they're having the same effect on me that they have on Alexa. She thinks they live and wouldn't that be cool? I've always liked dragons and real ones would be so awesome, flying around and helping with things we can't do. I'd imagine dragons would be kind and helpful, like Gwillan."
Someone who thinks dragons are good? Everyone that does not know the truth about dragons thinks they are evil, fire-breathing monsters. Beasts who steal maidens and lock them up in towers or caves full of gold. To meet someone who did not share that opinion was refreshing.
"Guardians of the earth is how I would look at them," said Arthur, his blind gaze trained in Aspen's general location. "Perhaps they once existed. But if they did, they are no more, returned to the clay from which we built ourselves on. We as a people might panic if a dragon flew in our skies, though."
"True. I can't say how I'd react if dragons suddenly appeared. I'd like to say I would be calm and excited, but who knows?"
"Perhaps you would. You are more open-minded about dragons than most people. Lucy, while there's still time, go bring your dragon."
"Gwendolen?"
"Yes. I imagine the rest are up in Liz's studio or in their places. Gwendolen should be near. Unless you object."
"No," Lucy mumbled, putting away her phone. Quickly she hurried to her room to find her dragon, Gwendolen, pacing on her bed.
"What's the matter?' Lucy asked.
"Gretel is suspicious of the stranger. She is planning something but I do not know what. She and the others are in the Dragon's Den," the dragon hurred. Gwendolen blew a smoke ring, obviously nervous.
She frowned but did not dwell on it. Arthur was expecting her to return quickly. "In your solid pose. Time to meet Aspen."
Gwendolen perked up. "Why?"
"Ask Arthur later. His idea."
Gwendolen did as ordered and settled into her solid pose.
As requested, she carried Gwendolen to the dinner table and placed her in the center. Aspen's eyes were trained on the clay dragon.
When Lucy sat down, she noticed Groyne standing on the fridge next to the listener. Both were solid. Lucy thought back to Gwendolen's words about Gretel but again dismissed them.
"Wow, what a stunner," Aspen said after a moment.
"What do you see in this one?" Arthur asked. "Or rather, what do you feel with this one?"
"Well, the same thing I feel with Gretel and Gwillan. This one is more beautiful. I'm sensing a few things though."
"Like what?" Lucy asked, biting her lip.
Aspen remained quiet for a moment before answering. "The dragons that have a weird feel to them, they all seem to already be claimed by someone. Gretel by Zanna, Gwillan by Liz, and Gwendolen by Lucy. Could the ones made specifically for someone have a special touch or aura about them that for some reason I'm picking up on?"
Arthur nodded his head. "That's very possible. I found since losing my sight that I am sensitive to things I previously was unaware of. Perhaps you can already use other senses and until today you were unaware."
"Like a sixth sense?"
"Yes. What that means exactly is up to interpretation. In my studies as a physicist, I have thought much on the nature of dark matter, and perhaps it is a creative entity, something that can be felt and tapped into."
Aspen looked again at Gwendolen. Unlike many of the others, Gadzooks with his pad, Gretel with her flowers, and Golly with his toolbox, Gwendolen had nothing that identified her as a specific type of dragon. Lucy thought about the dragon's ability to work with computers and software. Aspen would never be able to guess that.
"I guess I should say what else I noticed. All three dragons I've noticed, and Gadzooks as well, have names starting with 'G.' Is there a reason for that?"
"Because of the legend of a dragon named Godith, who created the world with her breath, and created dragons in her image. Having a name starting with 'G' is in honor of that legend," said Arthur. "You'll have to ask Liz for more. It's her legend."
And mine, Lucy thought but remained silent.
"So if she makes a dragon for me, I need to name it something like that?"
It was Liz who answered, walking in with a casserole dish. "You can name yours whatever you wish. If you have something else in mind, and you feel it fits, then it's your right."
Lucy moved Gwendolen out of the way so her mother could put the dish down. It did not seem right to her that a dragon made by her mother would get a nontraditional name. David gave his dragons names starting with the letter 'G' before he knew the significance.
Then her heart began to pound. Like Aspen, David had started clueless about the dragons, but unlike her, he did not suspect a thing merely from seeing one of the special dragons. Then he learned and became a part of the family, took on Gwilanna, and saved Lucy in the Arctic, dying in the process. What if something similar happened to this woman?
She sighed. The odds of something like that happening again were slim. David lived here; Aspen was just passing through.
"I'd like to have some respect for what you do and believe," Aspen said. "If there's significance to that letter, and there must be, then I shall think of a fitting name within those bounds."
Liz sat down. "You will name your dragon what you feel it should be named. Wait for the perfect name to come to your heart."
They began to serve themselves in silence. Briefly, Zanna came down and served two plates of food for herself and Alexa. Lucy would not spare a glance at the sibyl, preferring instead to study her own plate.
Aspen was the first to break the silence when everyone was close to finishing the meal. "If I may, I had asked Zanna if there was any specific inspiration for the shapes of your dragons. I wondered if you modeled them off something, or created the design yourself. She did not have an answer."
"I did model them off something," Liz said with a slight smile.
"Oh?"
"I'll explain after dinner."
"When you're making my dragon?"
Liz nodded, and Lucy felt something big coming. "I think instead, you will sculpt your dragon, with my guidance of course. I'd like to see what you can do."
