The Caged Dragon (Cycle of Dragons Book 1) Dan Michaelson (online e reader .TXT) 📖

I nodded. “Maybe.”

I knew better than to argue with my father. Ever since the accident, he’d been practically normal at times and confused at others.

He leaned forward, grabbing for the basket lying next to the floor. He took out a ball of yarn and began to unwind it, spooling it around his hand before wrapping it on to the other.

I watched him as he began to form a strange pattern. When he’d first started this pattern, it had been odd for me to see, but I had seen him doing the same thing over the last few months. It was his way of staying distracted, keeping his hands moving when his legs didn’t want to work . It helped him deal with the frustration from not being able to work the farm the way he once had.

I missed the man he’d been before the accident. I missed his lessons, the way he’d guided me through how to care for the farm, how the King’s Road had been built, and even some of his more outrageous stories that couldn’t be true, stories about dragons he’d seen and power he’d felt.

There was a time when my father had been quick to compliment, much like he’d been quick to laugh. After the accident, all that had changed, much as his personality and his memory had changed. He was a different man, far different than the one I’d known when I was young, and probably far different than the man my mother had married.

My father looked up, the yarn now wrapped almost entirely around his hand like a glove. He stared at me. “Why did you go over there, anyway?”

I sighed, smiling at him. “We saw something.”

“We?”

I suppressed the frustration bubbling up within me. I couldn’t push it all away. This was my responsibility. And Joran wondered why I couldn’t leave.

My family needed me. It was more than just Thenis who needed my help. My father did, as well. Mom kept him occupied most of the time, but there were times when she got frustrated, and couldn’t keep up with him. There were also times when she didn’t want to keep up with him. It was sad to admit, but sadder still was the fact that I didn’t blame her. I only had to deal with it for short stretches at the end of each day, keeping myself occupied with my chores otherwise. She had to deal with it constantly. Every day. And she would have to keep dealing with it.

“Have you taken your medicine today?” I asked as gently as I could.

He glanced to the table before looking back over to me. “That isn’t going to do much of anything,” he said.

“It can help.”

I got to my feet, stopping at the table and looking at the different medicines that a local wise woman had provided for my father. None of them had really made much of a difference, but we were all too hesitant to stop them for fear that whatever minimal benefit there was would be lost if we did.

I grabbed the jar of the dusty white powder. One spoonful twice a day was supposed to help, though he didn’t like taking it. “Do you want it now or after dinner?” I asked.

“I’m not taking anything,” he said, grimacing when he glanced at the table.

“James,” my mother’s voice said from the kitchen, “don’t give Ashan such a hard time. He’s just trying to help you. Alison, see if you can get your father to take his medicine.”

I looked back to see my mother pointing a spoon at Alison.

“I can do it,” I said.

She frowned at my father. “Just take the medicine. Dolores said it’ll help you get stronger.” She looked over to me, her frown deepening.

“I’m not taking anything, Emily. I don’t have to. I’m feeling well enough, anyway.”

“If you’re feeling well , then it’s because of the medicine,” I said. I took a seat next to him, and held the jar in hand. The medicine was kept in a simple clay pot. Thankfully, the lid kept most of the smell trapped inside, though now that I sat here with it on my lap, I could practically taste the awful aromas that drifted out of the pot. I had tried it once before. I didn’t feel good about forcing my father to try medicine I wasn’t willing to taste, so I knew it tasted just as bad as it smelled.

“Would it help if we put it in your stew?”

“I’m not taking it,” he said again. He started unwinding the yarn from around his hand, staring out the window.

The storm was finally coming to an end. I still had to get out to the barn and feed the horses, but perhaps if the rain abated, I would do it before we ate.

Getting to my feet, I carried the jar back to the table and set it there. Alison glanced from the kitchen, looking out at our father before turning to me. “He’ll take it.”

I nodded. “I know.”

“It’s going to get better.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I didn’t see that happening. Not for him. Not for Thenis. Even though it had only been my father and Thenis who were injured in the accident, we’d all been affected.

As I reached for the door leading back outside, my mother grabbed my wrist. “You don’t have to go out there. You can stay until after dinner.”

I looked past her, toward the back room. “Let me finish this up so that I can be done for the evening. You’re going to need help with both of them, I think.”

“Alison can manage, Ashan.”

Alison again. I looked to her, and found her standing in the kitchen, her back rigid.

“I know you can manage with Dad, but…”

I didn’t know what else to say. Alison could manage, but did she really want to?

I slipped out into the drizzling rain, and made my way to the barn. The distance between the house and the barn wasn’t all that