The Olive Conspiracy by Shira Glassman Page B

banana and litchi fruit
flourished. But over on the other side of the mountains, the air
was drier and the soil more poor. This made perfect conditions to
grow the hundreds of thousands of olive trees that gave Perach its
cooking oil, light, and snacking olives, with plenty left over to
export and grow rich.
    If one followed the river south, of course, the
mountain range flattened completely into the rich, dark soil of the
Lovely Valley. This was the true source of Perach’s
wealth.
    Shulamit’s primary goal was to do whatever she
could to keep the insects, and their rotting blight, from reaching
the Valley.
    Her guards were riding on horseback through a
pass in the mountains, and they’d most likely reach Gil’s farm by
lunchtime. Since Isaac’s dragon flight was faster than a horse on
land, she and Rivka could leave after breakfast and still get there
at the same time.
    The mountains were as beautiful as always, but
at first Shulamit couldn’t enjoy it. She kept peering down among
the trees, wondering where the horrid little creatures
lurked.
    But the sky was like a clear blue bolt of silk,
and the wind rushing past Shulamit’s face and ruffling the filmier
parts of her clothing soon improved her spirits. With Rivka’s
sturdy body behind her and strong, reassuring grip on her waist,
Shulamit reveled in the wonder that was dragon flight.
    It took the sight of a field of brown trees to
wipe the smile from her face.
    “ Oh, Rivka.” Shulamit, wide-eyed,
pointed to the grove as Isaac began his descent.
    “ Looks pretty ugly, doesn’t it,”
Rivka agreed in a flat voice.
    Shulamit narrowed her eyes. There was so much
famine in the world already—how could someone cause it
purposely?
    “ I see people,” said
Rivka.
    “ That’s where I’m headed,” said
Isaac, his magnificent wings sparkling in the sunlight as he
altered his course.
    There were more than a dozen people waiting for
them on the ground, right in front of a building Shulamit took to
be the farmhouse.
    First, there were four of the Royal Guard who
had ridden on ahead this morning through the pass through the
mountains, so that the queen wouldn’t be traveling through the
countryside with only Rivka and the dragon protecting her. Shulamit
had done things like that in her youth, but that was over five
years ago and she knew better now.
    The rest of the crowd looked like they might be
Gil and his family, the farmers who lived there, and perhaps some
of his neighbors. These were the people who stared up at Isaac as
he descended, mouths unselfconsciously open in wonder. It was
possible this was their first view of a dragon. The wild ones, the
beasts without reason, preferred the unpopulated wilderness, and
trained shapeshifters like Isaac weren’t terribly common
either.
    Isaac landed, and Shulamit, conscious of the
dead foliage and broken trees all around her, tried her best to
smile anyway as she waved at the farmers.
    Rivka hopped unceremoniously off the dragon and
then, as usual, helped the dainty queen get down to the ground
without too much damage to her stylish, light pink
clothing.
    Out of the corner of her eye, Shulamit saw
Isaac transform into his lizard form and scamper up to his perch on
Rivka’s shoulder as the two women approached the company. “Good
morning!”
    A tall, broad man in his middle age stepped out
from the group of farmers. “Good morning, Majesty!” he said, his
voice almost swallowed up as he faced the ground in a respectful
bow. “Thank you for coming.”
    Shulamit nodded. “You must be Gil.”
    He nodded back at her. “Yes, Majesty. These are
my sons and daughters, my younger brother, and that’s my eldest
daughter’s husband over there.” A braying noise attracted
Shulamit’s attention, and she turned to see a couple of donkeys
grazing near a large stone. Gil chuckled. “They’re part of the
family too. But they’ve been idle lately, I’m sad to
say.”
    “ They power the wheel that crushes
the olives for