Chapter 7. Springtime

Magda and Bookworm traversed the entire course of the river that they had followed from Seven Hills. They crossed the watershed and continued southeast, following the course of another river, this time going down-stream. It was still three weeks before the vernal Equinox, but spring now rushed towards them as they approached the coast. The ground was soft and moist under their feet, the warm air filled their nostrils with the heady scents of fermentation and growth. There was fresh asparagus and some unfamiliar herbs sold in the markets. Many of the wild plants were also unfamiliar to Magda — from the flowers that carpeted the sunny slopes, to the trees that were shimmering with the green and golden haze of the first tips of leaves poking out of the buds.

At last, the wind blowing in their faces brought the unmistakable tang of the sea. They settled for a few days of map-making and general resting in a cave not far from a picturesque seaside town. Its houses and churches crowded two stony islands in the mouth of the river that spilled its waters into a crescent-shaped bay. Magda just could not get enough of the salty air filled with the rich mix of the smells of a busy seaport: seaweed, pitch, pickled fish and all the mingled exotic odors of cargo of every kind loaded and unloaded on the many ships in the harbor. It smelled like home!

Yet, this place was definitely far from home. The language spoken here was foreign to Magda. And many other things were different as well, from the appearance of the people to the texture of the beach and the color of the sea. There was no coarse yellow sand here, and no pounding surf. Instead, seawater gently stroked gray pebbles. And the sea was such a brilliant turquoise color! Here and there, in the sheltered pocket of land between the hills and the water, protruded most unusual trees. The trunks had no branches and fanned out into feathery crowns of leaves at the top.  Magda figured out that these were palm trees; she recognized their fountain-like shapes from the illustrations she had seen in her illuminated Bible. But she had never imagined that their leaves were really so large and so leathery. Some of the shorter palm trees had trunks that seemed wrapped in rough brown cloth. At first Magda thought that they were wearing hair shirts, like hermits undergoing penitence. It took her some time to gather her courage to touch these strange, bristly tree clothes. Eventually, she realized that these were just the fibrous remains of old withered leaves that still clung to the tree trunks. She carefully preserved a small piece of the "tree hair shirt" in a special pouch where she kept other small souvenirs of her trip.

A few days after the travelers arrived at the seaside, Magda had a great stroke of good fortune. Among the ships at the port she spied The Golden Crest, a ship that belonged to a group of merchants who lived in Seven Hills. The captain and most of the crew came from Seven Hills as well.

Magda visited with them several times. The deck of the ship was too small for Bookworm to land on, so he merely flew over it in circles one night, as a way of greeting his countrymen. They were delighted to see him and the Dragon Maiden, and to learn that they had been faring well so far. Needless to say, the citizens of Seven Hills knew that Bookworm and Magda had left for a long journey, and everyone was anxious about the two travelers and prayed for their quick and safe return. The crew told Magda all the news from home, as of their last visit there a month back. Luckily, the city had managed in the absence of the dragon without any major disaster so far; there had been no enemy invasions and no serious fires.

The Golden Crest had a large shipment of books on board. The town had not repealed the "book tax" in Bookworm's absence. Quite the opposite, it was increased. The city council suspected that the dragon's sudden interest in travel had something to do with the disruption in book deliveries the previous autumn. There was fear that Bookworm may have decided to look for a better place to live. Seven Hills was determined to win the dragon back if he gave them a second chance. They were now building up a large library in the city in order to have on hand a good back-up supply of food for Bookworm. 

The captain ordered the books that he had on board to be handed over to Magda.  The crew also supplied her lavishly with pickled beets and salt codfish — comfort foods from home that she had not been able to buy for the last few months. Magda wrote a short note to the city council reassuring them that Bookworm did intend to return, and a long letter to her father and nursemaid, describing many of the marvels she had seen in her travels. She bought presents for her family. Bookworm and she also drew a small but exquisite map showing their route so far. The captain told them that he expected The Golden Crest to be back in Seven Hills by Easter, and that he would deliver Magda's gifts and messages at once.

Spending time with her countrymen and writing home made Magda home-sick. She did not mention anything to Bookworm, but he guessed how she felt and bravely asked her if she wanted to go back home on The Golden Crest. "I am strong and healthy now and can take care of myself, so you do not have to continue. I will tell you all about the trip when I get back,” he announced with false cheer in his voice. Ah, that was tempting! Magda struggled with her longing for a long time before replying. But loyalty to her friend, as well as curiosity that has not yet been quenched by the long months on the road, won over. She announced that she would stick with Bookworm. "I am glad to have your company," he answered with grave dignity. But then, unable to disguise his relief, he slapped his wings together with great claps and his nostrils flared with fiery joy.

The large load of books that Magda and Bookworm received from The Golden Crest allowed them to put aside their map-making tools for a while and to pick up speed. Moving as fast as the heavily book-laden horses could comfortably go, they traveled along the sea coast for less than a month and then turned inland again. Magda was sorry to leave the seaside, but greatly encouraged to find out that they were now close to the region where Bookworm guessed the Bird Spring to be located.

As the books dwindled, Bookworm was obliged to take up map-making again. But Magda's time was occupied primarily by making inquiries about Bird Spring and following the leads. As Bookworm suspected, those people who had heard or read about Bird Spring either considered it merely a legend or else were misinformed about what it was, what it looked like, and where to find it. Helpful strangers showed Magda duck ponds and heron pools. She was given water from wells with the reassurance that this same water was also given to the village chickens. She was led to city fountains "where all the sparrows drink." She was directed to a variety of wells, springs, brooks, and rivers that were reputed to have various curative properties, were associated with miraculous or merely memorable events, or simply looked particularly unusual or beautiful to whomever she happened to ask. In addition, Bookworm took many flights over the uninhabited areas, identifying from the air the various springs and rills for them to check.

Bookworm did not need to drink, and he disliked the feeling of water tickling him, as it boiled in his throat, so he did not participate in most of the water tasting. He was relying on Magda to identify the magical spring. On this trip Magda became a veritable connoisseur of drinking water. She tasted sweet water; brackish water; cold, clean water; rusty, silty, muddy water; and even water with strange little tickly bubbles in it. She got sick several times, most likely from sampling unwholesome water. But though she made sure to drink a large mug-full out of every likely source, she did not feel anything resembling the mysterious excitement that had propelled her to write her poem back in Bookworm's cave.

Equinox came and went. The weather started turning muggy, uncomfortably warm for the dragon. But they were still looking for the elusive Spring of Inspiration. They were now in a more densely inhabited land dotted with many small villages and with the crowded towns, which perpetually traded, competed and fought with each other. There was more traffic on the large roads and even on the footpaths in the forests than when they were traveling up north in the winter. They had to be extra careful to keep Magda safe and the dragon concealed.  But they were now seasoned travelers and acquired the skills and instincts that helped them sense trouble ahead of time and avoid it. Besides, they were well south of normal dragon habitat. People here had never seen a live dragon. So if on occasion Bookworm flew a bit too low in broad daylight or left his deep foot-prints on the rain-softened ground, the locals were none the wiser about what kind of strange bird had crossed the sky or what kind of strange beast had left the track.

Although both Bookworm and Magda were tired of chasing after all the false leads and impatient to find the Bird Spring, they agreed that overall this land offered many pleasures. The literary tradition, especially poetry, was rich and innovative. Among the books that Magda bought were many gems worth reading and re-reading, according to Bookworm. The local language was a descendant of the Classic Latin, but sufficiently different from it. Magda did not really understand the long passages of poetry that Bookworm read aloud to her at mealtimes. But she nonetheless was moved by their melodious rhythms and beautiful rhymes. She enjoyed Bookworm’s descriptions of the lines filled with transcendent love, deep longing and sharp wit. Magda, in turn, told Bookworm about the various buildings and works of art that were feasts for the eyes: the great cathedrals filled with beautiful paintings and marvelous marble sculptures, the city squares glittering with mosaics. Also, she found the fresh and varied food sold in the local markets to be a great delight. The horses, too, were enjoying the sweet young grass, a welcome relief after months of hay and oats.

But still, among all this abundance, where was that Bird Spring?

CONTINUED IN THE NEXT CHAPTER

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