Booktalking Colorado - Full Booktalk Record

Booktalking Colorado Full Record:

	Title:	On Wings of a Dragon
	Author:	Taylor, Cora
	Date Published:	2001
	Genre:	Fantasy
	Grade Level:	6 - 7
	Booktalker:	Sam Marsh

Booktalk:
All I could remember was falling, and fear and terrible pain, and my back wrenching. I dreamed and then woke in the cell where the old woman would bring in fresh water and place it on the plain wooden stand at the same time, more or less, each morning. All I could see of her was her hands, old and wrinkled, and she never spoke, but simply dropped me (Kour'el) a courtesy and left. It seemed I could recall a long journey involved, and that I had not been alone at first. But the how and why of it eluded me. One day I had simply awoken on the straw pallet on the stone floor in the room/cell. And then slept again for days...or so it seemed. Eventually the old woman left not only the water, but also a broth. At first thin, it became thicker and thicker as my strength began to come back. There were chunks of vegetables and then sweet charred meet. I began to plan, studying every inch of the stone walls and floor even before I began to walk. The room was round, with a window with bars that I could just reach my hands out of to collect moisture from the warm misty rain. Once I had circled the room, the woman began to place things on the table, so I knew that somehow I was watched and someone knew of my returning strength. I became more careful. Where I marked the time on the wall, I made some crude shapes and knelt before it as if before a shrine so they would believe I was praying, not tracking time. I decided to save some of the meat from the broth for later in the day and left it on the wooden stand. Then, I fell asleep. I broke the pitcher returning it to the stand, and the meat was so mixed with the shattered pieces, that I would be unable to eat it. The old woman didn't come the next morning. Further proof that I was being watched, and in this case punished. But, the meat disappeared from around the jagged edges of the pitcher. I dreamed again, disjointed dreams about Api'Napa and our flight. Feverish dreams that didn't make sense to me but that felt somehow 'right.' And, when I awoke, I heard a rustling...somewhere...but faint, so faint. The old woman came again on the second day after I dropped the pitcher, swept up the remains and brought a new pitcher and broth. I heard the rustling again as she left, but could not locate the source. Something very tiny...a moth perhaps. After, I once again lay down to sleep. I had left another portion of meat on the table for when I woke, but it had disappeared. A bird that had flown in the window? I fished the last pieces of meat out of the pitcher, ate some of the vegetables and most of the meat, placing the last pieces on the stand, then quietly lay on the pallet facing the stand. I pretended to be asleep. Soon, something glided from the window and landed by the meat. Very small. As small as a finger. But, as it ate the meat, it expanded to twice its previous size, then flew to the window. The next time I awoke and ate, I took a few pieces of meat and left them on the window seal. I waited until the creature had eaten, once again growing exponentially, then dragged the stand over to the window and got up on the stand slowly, carefully so as not to disturb it. It was partially hidden by the bars. It finished eating and backed towards a corner of the window. Thank you. So softly I could hardly hear. It was inside, not outside, of my head that I heard it. It was Api'Naga. A very tiny Api'Naga, but Api'Naga nevertheless.