The First Witch Chapter 4
By Eric Marsh
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Chapter Four.
The Lake.
Das flew steadily over the Forest. Jasmine leaned over his neck, peering down through the trees and picking out the winding roads below. After an hour of flying she called, “I hope you know where we’re going.”
Das nodded. “All dragons have an excellent sense of direction. We always know where north is.”
By late afternoon the mountains rose ahead of them, sharp and blue against the sky. Das glided down toward a lake nestled at their foot. As he landed, a horse grazing nearby gave a terrified neigh and galloped away as fast as its legs could carry it.
“Whoops,” said Das. “I hope nobody needed that horse.”
Jasmine slid off his back and stretched. “I could do with walking about a bit. And I should have brought something to eat. What about you?”
Das opened his satchel and took out a flask. “I brought something for myself. I don’t suppose you can eat this.” He handed her the flask.
Jasmine poured a little onto her hand. The liquid was bright green and smelled strongly of the sea.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Seaweed,” said Das cheerfully, taking a long drink. “We cook it so we can fly far from the sea without getting hungry.”
“Good idea,” said Jasmine. “But I don’t think I could eat it.”
“If you don’t mind, Princess Jasmine,” said Das, “I’m going for a swim. It’s only fresh water, but my skin is drying out in the sun. Shall I try to catch you a fish?”
“Yes please,” said Jasmine. “Though I’m not sure how I’ll cook it without a fire.”
“Sorry,” said Das sadly. “I don’t breathe fire.”
“Never mind. Go for your swim.”
“Are you sure you’ll be safe? That horse running off worries me. Horses don’t usually wander alone.”
“I’ll shout if I see anyone,” said Jasmine. “And most people don’t hang around when they see a dragon.”
“True,” said Das, wading into the lake. Within a few steps he disappeared beneath the surface. A trail of bubbles marked his path, then even those vanished.
Jasmine looked around. “Right. I need to find some way of cooking a fish, if Das manages to catch one.” She spoke aloud out of habit.
A quiet cough behind her made her spin round.
At first she saw nothing. Then she noticed a face peering out from between the trees.
“Come out where I can see you,” she ordered.
A short, rather chubby young man stepped into the open, giving her a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Princess Jasmine. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“How do you know my name?” snapped Jasmine, more surprised than frightened.
“I overheard you talking to your dragon,” he admitted, blushing. “I was too frightened to run away. My horse did that for me.”
“And you are…?”
He gave a clumsy bow. “Prince Emdan, son of Prince Aidan and Princess Emma.”
Jasmine curtsied. “You’re a long way from home.”
Emdan nodded. “We’re visiting the Duke who rules this region.” He hesitated. “You’re a fair distance from Sealand yourself.”
“I’m on an adventure,” Jasmine said fiercely.
“I see,” said Emdan. “Er… me too.” He cleared his throat. “I heard you say you forgot to bring food. My camp is just over there. I brought plenty of supplies. You’re welcome to share, if you want to.” He blushed again.
“Sorry about the horse,” said Jasmine, amused. “And yes, something to eat would be lovely.”
Emdan led her through the trees to a small clearing. A tent, a little carriage, and a pile of wood stood beside a half‑built fire.
“I was trying to light it,” said Emdan, “but I haven’t quite got the hang of it.”
“Let me,” said Jasmine. “Father made me learn how to camp properly, without servants.”
Emdan handed her his tinderbox. Jasmine gathered dry grass and soon had a cheerful fire burning. Emdan produced a kettle, bread, and cheese. Soon they were eating dry bread softened with hot tea.
Before they could exchange stories, there was a crashing in the undergrowth and a green scaly head poked between two trees.
“Ah, there you are,” said Das. “I wondered where you’d gone. And you’ve found a friend, how nice.” He dropped a large trout beside the fire. “Food.”
Jasmine opened her mouth to thank him, but Emdan was already scrambling backwards on his bottom, eyes wide.
“This is Das!” Jasmine called. “He won’t hurt you.”
“Indeed not,” said Das. “I don’t believe in violence.”
Emdan stood up, blushing furiously. “Sorry. You startled me. I’m not very brave.”
Jasmine smiled. “Das is a Sea Dragon. Sea Dragons don’t breathe fire, so you’re safe.”
Emdan brushed himself off. “I know. It was just a shock seeing a dragon come out of the trees.”
Jasmine picked up the fish. “Do you know how to clean this?”
Emdan shook his head.
“Do you have a sharp knife?”
He blushed again and handed her one from his belt. “I’m much more at home in a library than outdoors.”
“Good job you met me then,” said Jasmine. She set to work preparing the fish. “If you prefer libraries, why are you out here?”
Emdan sat by the fire. “It’s my cousins’ fault. You’d probably like them, tall, handsome, good at hunting and fighting.”
Jasmine snorted. “I’ve met that type. Not impressed.”
“They always teased me because I prefer books,” Emdan continued. “They used to bully me, but the King put a stop to it. They’re not very good at lessons, and they relied on me to help them. When we visited the Duke, they went off hunting. I went to talk to the old librarian instead. He told me a story about a lonely turret on a mountain top.”
Jasmine stopped turning the fish. “Go on.”
“There’s supposed to be a ghost guarding a dragon‑skin box,” said Emdan. “I thought finding out if it was true would be an adventure I could manage. So, I borrowed a horse and carriage and came looking.”
“And you found it?”
“Sort of. You can just see it at the far end of the lake.” His face suddenly fell. “Oh dear. I’ve just realised something dreadful.”
“What?” asked Jasmine sharply.
“The horse. It’ll run straight back to the Duke’s Castle. They’ll send search parties. I’ve ruined my adventure.”
Jasmine thought. “It’ll take them a while to organise a search. By then it’ll be dark. They won’t follow your trail until morning.” She turned to him. “How far is the Castle?”
“About two hours’ drive.”
“Good. If they leave at first light, they won’t reach here until mid‑morning.” She paced. “Das, how long to fly up to the turret?”
“A few minutes,” said Das.
“Hang on,” said Emdan. “Why do you want to find the turret? That was supposed to be my adventure.”
Jasmine quickly explained.
“Oh!” said Emdan. “Then the story is true.”
“The Witch thinks so,” said Das.
“Well, we can’t fly up there now,” said Emdan. “It’s too dark.” He blushed again. “Princess, you’re welcome to my tent. I’d like to sit and talk to Das for a while, if you don’t mind.”
Jasmine didn’t mind at all. She crawled into the tent, made herself comfortable, and fell asleep almost at once.
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