Dragon-Bound Bard: Teaser Chapter

Evening Memories

Tunis walked Tarissa back to Aunt Rose's house that night like he always did. Her older brother had lived in his own apartment since they had moved to Silverdale three years ago, but he always saw her home from the Cat. Their aunt's house was in a safe enough part of town, but the Crooked Cat sat in an area that bordered on Silverdale's rough-and-tumble harbor district. Tarissa appreciated the company, and tonight she was especially glad to have him by her side. Rebellion roiled her thoughts. She and Tunis rehashed the incident with the red-jacketed Keeper. From what Catalta had said, a Keeper was more than just another lascivious customer.

Tarissa vented her frustration with life in Silverdale. "I should get my own place and move out." Residual dragon anger put an edge to her statement.

"Aunt Rose won't let you move out until you're married. We've had this conversation before, Tarissa."

"Well, I'm seventeen. Mother was sixteen when she married. Besides, Aunt Rose already takes most of my money for rent."

"It's less than what you'd pay for most decent places. Plus, she feeds you."

Everything Tunis said was true, but it did not sooth her desire to change her life. Tunis put his arm around her and gave her shoulders a squeeze. "Don't worry, sister mine. You're the one with all the talent in the family. You'll be the one everyone talks about."

Tunis could always make her feel better. His comment made her smile, but she was still sour. "Yeah, but what will they say?"

He jostled her shoulder and chuckled. "Sort of wonder that myself." He gave her a pat. "And Catalta is wrong. You're not skinny, you're slender."

She sighed. "I wish I could just sing. Then I wouldn't have to worry about if a customer's one of the Keepers or not." She ran her fingers up into her hair and tugged at a handful. Exasperated, she growled, "Maybe one night the duke himself will come in disguise. That way I could insult him or dump a plate of food in his lap. Really mess things up."

"Hey, you're getting yourself all worked up again." He shook a finger at her.

"Yeah, I know." She sighed. "Thanks for reminding me." She pinched her face in an imitation of Aunt Rose, and in a high, whiny voice said, "Temper, temper, little girl. You've gotten so cranky since you moved in."

When they arrived at Aunt Rose's home, Tunis caught her arm. "Are you okay?" he asked. She looked at him and saw his concern for her.

Yes, she was still annoyed, but her dragon anger only growled, scarcely a solo part against a background of resentment. She half smiled and nodded. "I'm being crabby," she admitted with a sigh. "I'll be all right, but thanks for checking." She really did need a place to live.

With one last compliment on her singing, Tunis wished her goodnight.

Inside, the house was dark and quiet. Tarissa tiptoed through the space carefully, noiselessly. Aunt Rose would blister her ears if Tarissa awakened her. In her room behind the kitchen, she readied herself for bed. She had moved to Silverdale from Tazzelton to live with her Aunt Rose Rance, her mother's older sister, after her mother had died. It had been three long years. She missed the kingdom's capital city, but most of all she missed her mother.

She put on her nightshift and fingered the golden locket that hung around her neck. Inside the locket was inscribed, "For Lovely Sara." Sara, Tarissa's mother, had given it to Tarissa the night before she had died. Her mother's unknown lover—Tarissa's father—had given Sara the locket. Sara had never told Tarissa her father's name. For Tarissa the locket was a talisman, a happy memory of her mother. Whoever her father had been, Tarissa knew her mother had loved him. She had seen her mother hold the locket in thoughtful contemplation. During those moments, Sara's eyes gazed on distant memories, and those memories made her smile.

Tarissa took refuge tonight, like most nights, in her mother's mandolin. She picked up the instrument and crawled into bed. The smooth, rosewood soundboard reflected the light of the one candle she was allowed, but she did not need light to play this instrument. The neck fit naturally into the palm of her left hand. Her fingers found the frets instinctively. However, she put a cloth pad over the sound hole to muffle the mandolin's voice. She hated the dead, dull tone, but she dared not wake her aunt.

She started with a melody that had been running through her head the last few days, but after a few bars, realized it did not fit her mood tonight. The skipping rhythm, the half-formed humor of the lyrics echoed badly in her head. Instead, she shifted to Dragon Variations and let her thoughts roam. Playing her mother's instrument, Tarissa thought of her mother and how she had taught her to play the mandolin, read music, and sing. Then she remembered the stark image of her mother, gaunt and pale awaiting death in the final stage of her illness—

But that was not the memory she wanted at this pensive moment. She had tried many times to forget that horrible scene. Again tonight she pushed away that doleful memory to turn to happier thoughts.

Like dragons. This afternoon Tarissa had seen a dragon on her way to work the Cat. At first glance, it could have been mistaken for a gull or some other sea bird up in the sky, but she knew it instantly. High overhead, the tiny silhouette had evoked strong feelings of respect, of admiration, for the magnificent beasts. Sadly, she was bound to a dragon she would never know, an eternal unrequited love.

While her mother had been alive, she and Tunis had lived with her in Tazzelton. In the capital city of the Kingdom of Landly, both King Dax and Queen Dara were dragon-bound. Dragons came and went from the castle frequently. Tarissa's Dragon Variations melodies were her attempt to capture the mix of feelings she had for the great beasts, the happy with the sad. Tonight Tarissa chose a theme in a minor key and played it at a slow tempo, a match for her melancholy mood.

Her own egg was gone. Her bond unfulfilled. After the first standard decoration of the melodic line, she wandered off elaborating the tune where her inspiration took her. She meditated with her musical tapestry. She had seen dragons in Silverdale only once before, that fateful day three years ago. Rather, the dragons she and Tunis had seen that day had been at the Silver River Fair, outside of the city. That had been a wonderful day. But at the same time, that day had seen her greatest loss.