One

In the early afternoon sunshine, the bridge shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow. Light shining off it splintered into masses of oranges and reds streaked with violet and indigo and green. Clouds of fiery yellow and serene blue swirled in its depth, constantly changing. Alsa couldn't discern what the substance of the bridge truly was, or even if there were any real matter to it. The general shape was of an arc, but the glimmer obscured any actual outline.

She stared down the path that led to it. On either side of the bridge, the short down-slope ended abruptly at the brink of a chasm so deep she couldn't see the bottom until she reached the edge and leaned out. Beyond it, on the other side of the rift, the path wound upward again, climbing the side of the mountain to the castle, still well above her.

Under ordinary circumstances, Alsa had too much sense to risk crossing a bridge of such dubious substance. But need rode her hard. The safety and survival of an entire town rested on her talent. That burden drove her to the span and forced her to attempt its crossing. She stepped onto it carefully, tentatively.

Beneath her, the colors whirled in oily, sparkling slicks and puffed out from the surface in misty clouds. Her boots seemed to press into and through the surface, touching nothing solid, only a soft, yielding cushion. She sank into it up to her ankles, but found it supported her weight without trapping her or hindering her steps.

The pliant surface inspired little confidence, nonetheless. Were she not so desperate, she would have turned back Even now she badly wanted to, while she was still within reaching distance of the mountainside’s solid, rocky ground.

Too many people depended on her. She lifted one foot and set it down ahead of the other, wincing and rocking to keep her balance as it squashed into the cloudy nothingness that was something after all. The bridge was only a few feet wide, with no parapet, so she had to concentrate on keeping her balance. Each step planted at a different depth, and she could never anticipate exactly how much to adjust her shifting weight. Fortunately the attention required kept her from thinking about other things—like the fall she risked, or how far down the bottom of the rift was.

Each movement was an adventure, every stride an invitation to disaster. Even after she'd crossed almost half the span, it never stopped feeling as though her foot might slide all the way through whatever material comprised the bridge, dragging her body into a fall too horrible to contemplate.

With each step carefully considered, then just as precisely executed, it took a long time to cross. The end came upon her suddenly. After watching her feet so closely, she looked up finally to see the edge only a step or two away. Alsa gathered herself and covered the remaining distance in one giant leap that carried her onto solid ground.

She stumbled as she landed and fell headlong. Winded, she lay stretched out on the ground while she struggled to regain her breath and her confidence. Her fingers dug into the thin layer of dirt over rock, clinging to its warmth and solidity. It felt like a mother, holding her to its bosom.

Only after she turned her head and noted the position of the sun did she push herself upright and set off again. No more time to waste if she wanted to make it to the castle before dark. The path wound steeply upwards, in a series of narrow bends and sharp curves, with occasional short detours around downed trees or fallen rocks. Above and ahead, the tops of several slender towers appeared, their sharp, pointed tops spearing the clouds.

The smell gave the first clue to the next hazard she faced: a compound of sulfur, smoke and something animal. She hesitated and sniffed and suspected, but having braved the bridge, she refused to let a little thing like a guard-dragon stop her. Or even a big thing, which the guard-dragon surely would be.

The rumble made her pause again, after only a few more yards of progress.

The creature surged into view from behind the castle’s stone walls. Its long neck wove a graceful curve as it reared up, while sunlight glinted off its scales. Alsa ducked behind a nearby stone and then poked up her head to stare at it in frank admiration, despite the inadequacy of her cover, and with full knowledge that the dragon would likely char her on the spot.

It must have extraordinary hearing to detect her approach from such a distance. She'd tried to keep her movements quiet and thought she'd succeeded. Wrong.

"Little mortal!"

The dragon's harsh, grinding voice boiled like a volcano. Its giant eyes trained on her. Gleams of colored light whirled in the depths of slitted pupils.

Its sudden laugh had both the crack and rumble of thunder. "Little mortal, what do you here?" it asked. "We have visitors so rarely."

Alsa risked poking her head out from behind the rock again. "I'm not surprised. Your hospitality is legendary."

The blast that followed was probably the dragon equivalent of a chuckle. "Did you come to look at me? Your people seem to enjoy the challenge. I hear that in the town they say it's good luck to have looked on the dragon and lived. Since few do survive, I suppose it can be rightly said they are lucky."

"I've come to consult with your master."

"Master?" A puff of steam billowed from outraged nostrils stretched wide open.

"Perhaps I phrased that badly. I wish to talk to the wizard. Would you grant your permission?"

The mountain shook as the dragon bellowed its amusement. "Of course not. But thank you for asking."

"Even if—"

"I haven't had a good laugh for some time," the dragon went on, ignoring her plea. "Perhaps I'll let you get as far as the castle door, if you care to make the attempt. Perhaps. Have you the courage to risk it, little mortal?"

Alsa abandoned the dubious protection of the stone, stood up and moved into an open area. "Yes."

"Then walk. You've had no trouble finding the path so far."

"It's well enough marked."

"The wizard may not like commerce with your people, but he still has need of food and supplies."

"You'll let me go on?"

"I said 'perhaps.' Take your chances."

"I will then." Alsa said it with more confidence than she felt, hoping dragons weren't as good at reading human emotions as they were at hearing human footsteps. She began to walk up the path toward the castle. And the dragon.

"I like the ones with spirit the best." The dragon, it appeared, was in a chatty mood. "There haven't been many over the years. Plenty come to look, but mostly they turn and run the other way when they see me. Or sometimes when I loose the first blast of flame."

The dragon reared back and made a sound like a giant sneeze. A sheet of fire poured from its mouth. The flame singed grass and trees directly behind her. Alsa kept moving, trying to ignore it, though the stench—a combination of sulfur and burning wood—made her gag, and the heat warmed her cloak more than felt quite safe.

"What did those poor trees ever do to you?" she asked.

The dragon nodded its head to one side, the dragon equivalent of a shrug, she supposed. "The woods need to be cleared out periodically. Encourages new growth. You're braver than most. That sent the last three who dared the path running for cover."

"Have you lived here long?" Perhaps if she kept the dragon talking, he'd forget about frying her.

"What is long? A hundred or so cycles of seasons. I confess the last few cycles have begun to feel rather meaningless. I mean, we're born, we grow up, we flame a few people, consort with a wizard or two, and we die. What's the point of it all?"

"You're making me cry. Perhaps if you tried planting trees rather than blasting them, you might find a clue."

"Do you think so? I've never been much for gardening. I tend to trample things."

"Your size. I suppose that does make it difficult."

"Extremely. So, tell me why you're so eager to see the wizard."

"I have a deal to offer him."

"Oh, ho! Perhaps I will let you get there. The last person who wanted to make a deal still has a nest in a corner of the chimney." He paused, and one eye half-closed. "Unless that was the one caught in the trap in the pantry last week. Oh well."

Alsa refused to consider the implied threat. "I think I can offer something he wants."

"And how would you know what a great wizard wants?"

"I've heard enough talk."

"In your puny town. What do they know about a powerful wizard?"

"There are a few who've had…rather close contact with him."

Apparently the dragon knew what she referred to. It grew quiet for a moment, and then it loosed another hot, foul-smelling blast of fiery gas that cleared a new path through the trees, passing no more than three feet from where she walked.

Alsa didn't stop, didn't even pause in the process of picking her way around rocks in the path. "You've really got to do something about that breath problem," she muttered, low, though, since she didn't see any use in offending the creature.

For the last hundred yards or so, the path rose steeply to the castle door. Rocks littered the way in such abundance, it became more a stone staircase than a path, except they tended to roll out from underfoot or wobble when stepped on, making for chancy purchase. Alsa fell once, scraping a knee, but got up and continued, taking more care with her steps. She had no more attention to spare for banter with the dragon.

When she reached an immense wooden door, she stopped and looked up. The dragon still watched her. Its huge head and neck were off slightly to her left and almost directly above, so she had to lean well back to see it. "Thanks for lighting the way for me," she offered.

Steam hissed from its nostrils and its body rocked a little. A strange gurgling noise—another chuckle—issued from its throat before it responded: "The pleasure was all mine, I'm sure. Best of luck, little mortal. You'll need it."

The dragon gathered itself, flapped enormous wings and launched itself into the sky. The backwash of air almost knocked her down the hill again. Alsa had to grab a nearby sapling and cling to it until the whirlwind passed and the sinewy, gleaming body of the dragon disappeared somewhere behind the castle.