Foras takes a message
Foras fought with all his strength, but this call was stronger than the call of any earth-dwelling creature he had ever known. Still, he felt no ward clamping over him—he would be free to slaughter the fool who had summoned him just as soon as he could see him.
“Who dares summon Foras?” he roared, choosing Gaelic as the most likely language since he was being called to the country of the Scots.
There was no answer, and he was about to roar again when he noticed a dark form crumpled up against a rock. Had the mighty roar of Foras sufficed to kill his summoner?
He smiled—
And then he saw the wings. Worse than wings: torn and tattered wings, with small shreds dangling and turning in the breeze.
“Who…” Foras clamped his own wings against his body and leaned closer, gingerly. “Who are you?” he asked.
The creature tipped his head back slowly.
“Dan—talion!” Foras gasped. “What happened to you?”
“Have you ever been eaten by a dragon?” Dantalion asked wearily.
“Beaten by a dragon?”
“Eaten, I said,” Dantalion sighed.
“Noooo…”
“Be thankful I did not summon you here the day after I slid out of her belly. You wouldn’t have known to which piece address yourself.”
Remembering his dignity, Foras drew himself up and unfurled his wings. “Why did you summon me here?” he scowled.
“Foras?” Dantalion asked sweetly.
“Yes?”
“Are you speaking down at me?”
Foras winced. “No, Dantalion…”
“No, what?”
“No, Temanyeh,” Foras said meekly. He whipped back his wings and laid himself out upon the ground.
“I thought not, Arabah,” Dantalion muttered.
“What may I do for you, Temanyeh? Oh! I forgot…” Foras lowered his head and sniffed the earth. “I had forgotten how everything has a smell here.”
“Pleasant to get the odor of ‘fire and brimstone’ out of your nostrils, isn’t it?”
“What? Oh!” Foras laughed. “Indeed.”
Dantalion rolled his eyes. “You shall deliver a message for me, Arabah.”
“What?” Foras gasped in outrage. “Have you lost your legions that you need send me?”
“I need a message carried to our mother!” Dantalion hissed through his teeth.
“Our mother!” Foras wailed.
“Have you been naughty again?”
“No… However, I prefer not to remind her of my existence.”
“This is important, Foras. Do it.”
“What is the message?”
“Tell her I must speak to her.”
Foras clucked his tongue. “She will not free you, Dantalion.”
“I know that!” Dantalion snapped. “Nor have I ever lowered myself to beg it of her! That is not what I wish to tell her.”
“What do you wish to tell her?”
Dantalion grabbed his ankles and pulled his legs up closer to his body. It seemed to Foras that they were all but useless to him, and he was frightened to think of what kind of dragon could be mighty enough to eat—or even beat—Eight.
“You are to tell her I need to speak with her,” Dantalion said. “That is all you need to know.”
Foras frowned and scratched with his claw in the dirt.
“She may either bring me home—which she most assuredly will not do—or come here, but she must listen to what I have to say.”
“You wish me to tell our mother what she ‘must’ do?”
“I trust you and your gilded tongue to make the message agreeable to her ears.”
Foras sighed. “How soon?”
Dantalion snorted. “You must think highly of your gilded tongue if you believe you will be able to convince her not only to come but to let you name the day.”
“My tongue shall do its golden best.”
“Tell her to come soon. Before…” Dantalion stopped and seemed to count in his head. “The next new moon or before. That is important, too.”
“Why?”
“I ask, Arabah. You answer.”
“Yes, Temanyeh.” Foras touched his head to the earth again, but he paused to smell it. “I should come more often. Does it rain sometimes?” he asked wistfully.
Dantalion groaned. “Don’t mention the rain to me. I cannot even shelter myself beneath my wings at the moment.”
“Sorry,” Foras chuckled.
“Now get out of here, Foras. The next time I want to see your face I shall… approximate the experience by kicking myself in my own.”
Foras laughed and pushed himself up. “We miss you, brother,” he cried as he slipped away. “I, for one, hope she brings you home.”
