Far from the shores of the sea where she had been born, Illis perched in a tall tree. She let her legs dangle over the branch and kicked her ankles back and forth, watching the autumn leaf-light patterns play across her bare toes.

She thought about the sea, sometimes, how different it was from the dry, enclosed forests, how the scent of the salt tanged the air, how the roar of the ocean played with her ears. In contrast, this forest was stale and silent. She had played across the summer beaches with her brothers and sisters for all the years of her childhood. The winter sea, however, was cold and harsh and her family would move inland in the fall to shelter in the temperate forests of the Midlands. It was in the outlying villages around the dense, dark forests that the stories arose.

"Dragons," she heard the villagers whisper. "Dragons in the forest. Beware and guard your children."

She rarely went near the villages, though, and when she did, she remained well hidden. Since Illis and her family were from the sea, her mother told her, they were looked upon with fear and scorn as outsiders. Illis contented herself with living at home and playing with her siblings, chasing small forest creatures and hunting for dragons.

Illis knew what she was looking for, though not at all what she would do when she found it. A huge, hideous, slavering beast with a rabid appetite for children and virgins—that was a dragon. She was looking for some evil demon or scaled devil-creature. Sometimes, she shivered when she thought about how terrible a dragon must be. Sometimes, her siblings would laugh at her, telling her that there were no such things as dragons, but she followed the dragon hunts, high in the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of the quarry long before it was killed.

She pulled thoughtfully at a vine and, drawing from a well of internal power, she made it grow and curl in intricate patterns. She smiled as her magic glowed like sunlight. The small vine thickened and twined around itself, weaving a small hammock in the trees. Illis climbed in and settled down to watch the forest grow.

After a while, Illis heard noise. She sniffed the air and smiled. People from the village. Years of living in the forest had honed her senses to a razor’s edge, despite her youth. Illis leaned over the branch, curious, as the villagers approached. From their conversations, she picked up that they were hunting a dragon. She laughed softly to herself. If she was silly, then so were the hunters. She would have to go home and tell her family. Despite her hopes, they had never seen dragons in the forests, and even Illis had to admit that something so huge and monstrous would have a hard time hiding among the thin-trunked trees.

Illis followed the men through the trees for several hours, watching the hunters jump at squirrels and bicker nervously among themselves. She hovered lightly overhead, perched in the trees, giggling to herself. They hadn’t noticed her yet. How dimwitted town life has made them. She would have to tell her mother how well she had practiced her hunting skills.

Suddenly, a twig crackled beneath her foot, and fell to the ground. She cursed her lack of concentration. There was a wild commotion from the men below her. Illis was too far up in the giant oak to distinguish what they were saying, so she climbed down to hear. The commotion increased. Perhaps they think I will fall? Illis called down that she would be fine. At the men’s confusion, she realized that she had spoken her own language from the sea, and not that of the villagers.

One of the men drew a thick-shafted arrow and let it fly. The head grazed her shoulder and Illis barked in pain. Mother had been right; villagers didn’t like outsiders. Saddened, Illis turned to climb back up the tree. An arrow struck her in the ankle, severing tendons, and her foot slipped, clawing bark away from the tree trunk. Another arrow struck her side, and soon a third was quivering in her neck.

Illis felt her grip on the tree loosening. And suddenly, she was falling. And just as suddenly, she was not. Hitting the ground was not so much an impact of pain, but of shock. What have I done to them, that they would kill me?

Dimly, she saw misty man-shapes gathering around her. Now they were close enough for her to hear their voices. One man reached over and stroked a small hand over the smooth gold plates of her belly in awe.

"Well, Perro, we killed ourselves a dragon."

As her vision faded, Illis was filled with confusion. She tried to speak, to tell them the one thought that filled her mind. But her jaw was a mountain, her tongue a dune of sand. Her eyes began to film, but her mind still struggled to scream, still repeated one refrain, trying desperately to extract sense.

No you didn’t, you killed me.