Eleven Guilders

Checkers exhaled heavily, and looked at the base of the quiver. It was there - a special device of her own design that allowed her to carry and fire a spear while in flight. It was a leather collar that fit around her neck, and attached to the quiver that strapped on her back. When she bowed her head sharply, a mechanism would release the spear from its quiver. Until then, she could safely carry the light spear on her back in flight. Checkers had already proven that she could hunt small game such as rabbits with it, although she had never tried larger game. It could be dangerous if she did not fly correctly while using it, but she at least would not have to choose between being armed and being able to fly.

She opened the contents of the pouch and looked at them. A small vessel with green pellets, to dull pain. Some dried food, and a light vessel for water. A little metallic instrument with numbers. The maps. Her stylus and diptych. The last was a vanity, but Checkers clung to it as her last vestige of civilization. In a second pouch on her quiver there were three spearpoints, one of flint, one of obsidian, and one of iron, as well as a whetstone. There was alson a tiny lantern about the size of her fist.

She said a silent prayer to the good Lord of the Gliders, asking for wisdom, strength, and luck. She then turned to her map.

The good Lord of the Gliders had a dark sense of humour, for the black strip on her map to the dragon began just west of Blueberry Patch. The map would be worthless to her, at least in the beginning. Numbed by yet another setback, she opened her diptych.

Eleven silver guilders and a small bag of coffee beans fell out, into the base of her pouch. Maybe her father put them there? But he could hardly afford such generosity. She looked at the wax tablets.

There were four lines written in a steady, blocky hand, in Modern Dolomite, with a signature. They translated to the following:

Electric Pass had to deliver someone this year.
I wish that there had been more time.
Robin is at the Academy - he has much to do.
But your task is as important to me.

Checkers took one of the beans, and chewed it, the overpoweringly bitter taste focussing her attention. She trembled a bit. So Sylvan did not consider her an animal either! And Sylvan was giving her encouragement, taking a huge risk in doing so. She stared at the diptych again, not believing it. If someone had opened the pouch, Sylvan would have suffered worse disgrace than she had. Sylvan always seemed to be one of the strictest adherents to the Glider ethic, and he was an elder of the town. For him to break the oath against the ostracized like this either meant that he had a hidden regard for her, or that he had special reasons for wanting her to succeed. She would erase the diptych to protect Sylvan in case she died. Somehow, she felt that her situation was less futile and more grave than she had imagined. She sensed that somehow her task mattered to the RDL now. Sylvan had helped her find her resolve.

Putting these thoughts aside, she packed her pouch, and started to ascend. She wanted to find a spot with a tree at least, to build a makeshift shelter, hopefully in a location with enough food for one Glider to forage and survive.

1. Checkers flies west.

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