by E. D. Baker
Audun shook his head, saying, “I’m here to ask the king and his councillors for their help. I’m not looking for a mate.”
“That’s too bad,” she replied, turning so that her tail rubbed against his leg. Wetting her lips with her tongue, she looked him up and down, her gaze lingering on the muscles in his legs and the ridge along his back. “The king is very busy now,” she said. “One of the old councillors died and King Stormclaw has been meeting with her replacement. You probably won’t get an appointment for days.”
“Is there anywhere that I can—,” Audun began.
The door slammed open and a burly dragon, over twice Audun’s height, ducked his head and squeezed through the doorway. There was a silvery tinge to his scales, and he had a ridge as sharp as dagger blades and the longest talons Audun had ever seen. Audun stepped back from the anger flashing in the huge dragon’s eyes; Hildie just looked disgusted.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” the dragon growled at her. “I leave my post for two minutes to help Iceworthy and you sneak past.”
“We were waiting in line for our turn on the ice chute when we heard that he was here,” the younger dragoness announced, pointing at Audun. “Hildie wanted to come see him up close before any of the other dragonesses could. She thinks if she meets him first, she’ll have first claim on him. She shouldn’t be here, though, should she, Frosty-breath?”
Hildie turned on her companion and scowled. “Be quiet, Loolee. No one asked you.”
Loolee smiled sweetly at Audun and skipped out the door. Frostybreath growled at Hildie until she started to leave as well. “You’ll have to forgive Loolee,” she said, pausing in front of Audun so she could tilt her head, making her neck look long and slender. “She’s just a child and doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
“Hildie!” snapped Frostybreath.
The dragoness made an exasperated face and smiled at Audun one last time before she, too, left the room. Frosty-breath squeezed through the doorway again, shaking his head and muttering to himself.
The door shut with a click. Audun sighed. He’d been about to ask if there was somewhere he could go to get something to drink, but he hadn’t had the chance. Thinking that he would look for a drink himself, he opened the door and was halfway out when a deep growl made the ridge along his spine rise.
“Get back in there, squirt,” said Frostybreath, baring his fangs.
“I was just—”
“I don’t care what you were doing,” said the dragon. “You’re not going anywhere until I say you can.”
Audun was puzzled. Although he hadn’t known what to expect when he’d arrived at the island, it had never occurred to him that he’d be treated like a prisoner. “I really just want—”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s what they all say. Then the next thing I know you’ll be flying off with Hildie or another young dragoness and I’ll have to go out in the wind and rain to haul you both back. I don’t like the rain, boy, so don’t even think about it. Now go in that room and don’t come out until I say you can.”
Frostybreath took a menacing step toward Audun and the young dragon backed into his room and shut the door. He was studying one of the walls of ice, wondering what would happen if he licked it, when the door opened and an elderly, narrow-faced dragon official, wearing rings on every talon and a medallion in the shape of the king’s head, stepped inside. The dragon carried a stylus in one set of talons and a stiffened parchment in the other. Peering down his long, thin nose at Audun, he said, “My name is Iceworthy. I understand that you want to ask the king and his councillors for help. What, precisely, is the nature of your request?”
“It’s personal,” said Audun.
“I see,” murmured the dragon as he wrote. “P-e-r-so-n-a-l. And what exactly is this personal request?”
“I’d prefer to ask the king.”
The dragon raised a brow ridge and twitched his tail. “You would, would you? Apparently you don’t understand how things work here. King Stormclaw is a very important dragon and cannot talk to just anyone. My job is to make sure he isn’t bothered by minor nuisances like you. Nothing gets to King Stormclaw without my approval. You either tell me now, or I’ll have Frostybreath throw you off the island. Which shall it be, hmmm?”
It was obvious from his expression that the old dragon wasn’t going to give in. The young dragon sighed. “I want to ask how to become a human. I was told that I should go to the king and his council for help.”
“Human, eh? Well, I’m sure you have your reasons, although no one in his right mind . . . Ah, well, that’s neither here nor there. What is your name, young dragon? I’ll have to write my report, then turn it in. You should hear back from the council in a few days. A week at most.”
Audun sighed. “I’m Audun, son of Moon Dancer and Speedwell, grandson of Song of the Glacier and High Flier and—”
The dragon grunted and gave Audun a peculiar look. “Enough!” he said, lowering his stylus.
The old dragon’s bones creaked as he turned around. Audun followed him to the door, saying, “Please, sir, before you go, if you could just tell me where—”
The door shut in Audun’s face, leaving him even more puzzled than before.
Although the young dragon tried to distract himself in the empty room by counting the number of his reflections he could see on the ice walls and finding cracks in the ice that looked like animal faces, it wasn’t long before all he could think about was how thirsty he was. Rather than lick the wall and risk getting his tongue frozen to it, Audun used his talons to gouge out a piece of ice. He was just about to place it in his mouth when the door opened and Frostybreath came in, carrying a platter of newly caught fish and a jug of fresh water.
Seeing the ice in Audun’s talons, the guard shook his massive head, saying, “I wouldn’t eat that if I were you. An old sorcerer used magic on it to keep it frozen for as long as there are dragon kings. Put it in a closed vessel and it will freeze any liquid around it. You wouldn’t want to see what it would do to your blood if you ate it.”
Audun dropped the chunk of ice. Frostybreath smiled and set the platter and jug on the floor. “Eat hearty, squirt. You’re meeting with the king and his councillors in the morning. I’d get a good night’s sleep, too, if I were you. You’ll need your wits about you tomorrow.”
After the guard had gone, Audun squatted on the floor beside the platter, drained the jug of water into his mouth, then picked up the chilled fish and dropped them onto his tongue, one at a time. He thought the whole thing was too confusing. First he was a prisoner, then he was about to be kicked off the island, now he was getting just what he wanted sooner than he’d thought possible. If only I could get someone to tell me what’s going on, he thought, yawning until his jaw made a cracking sound. If only I’d listened more when Mother and Grandmother told me about living on the island. He picked up the empty jug and shook it. If only I still had some water left!
He was settling down on the ledge when he bumped the piece of ice he’d broken off the wall. It skittered a few inches, but Audun reached out and caught it before it could fall off the ledge. Magical ice might come in handy, he thought, and tucked it into the pouch that all ice dragons have under a flap of skin between the base of their wings and their back.
Although Audun didn’t think he’d be able to sleep that night after having slept most of the day, he lay down to rest and didn’t wake up until Frostybreath brought him more fish in the morning. The dragon guard grunted a greeting, and handed Audun a platter and another jug, saying, “Hurry up and eat. I’m supposed to take you to the council chambers right away, but I don’t want you fainting from hunger at the king’s feet.”
While Audun ate his breakfast, Frostybreath stood by, tapping his talons impatiently against the ice. Audun was licking the last fish scale from his lips when the dragon beckoned him to the door. “Come along. The sooner I have you delivered to the council, the sooner I can get back to my real job.”
The big dragon shook his massive head. “Not at all. I’m just filling in for a friend who had to get a broken fang fixed. My real job makes use of my talent. I can freeze things just by blowing on them. I’ll show you. Spit.”
“What?” said Audun. “Here, you mean . . . now?”
“Right here. Don’t worry. No one will mind.”
Audun shrugged. “If you say so.” Gathering moisture in his mouth, he spit at the wall in front of him. Just as the fluid left Audun’s mouth, Frostybreath exhaled. The air crackled and shimmered; a small chunk of ice hit the wall with a thunk! “Wow!” said Audun. “That’s some talent.”
Frostybreath looked pleased by the compliment, but he shrugged as he lumbered down the corridor. “That’s nothing compared to what the king and his councillors can do. King Stormclaw can call up storms—”
“I’ve heard that,” said Audun.
“Here we go. We’ll take this ramp down to the lower levels. See how much brighter it is now? The storm must have stopped.”
Audun had not seen any windows, but the ice was translucent and let in daylight when the sun was out. The walls that had seemed gray and dismal the day before now looked as bright as the ice on the mountains back home. The ramp was wide enough for two ordinary-sized dragons to walk side by side, but Frostybreath was far bigger than average. Audun had to follow him down the ramp, staying well back to avoid the other dragon’s swinging tail.
“And one of his councillors, Frostweaver, can make intricate patterns out of frost,” Frostybreath continued. “They say that the newest councillor . . . Hey, watch where you’re going!” the big dragon shouted, as a pack of giggling young dragonesses raced past in the opposite direction.
Audun thought he saw Hildie and Loolee in the group, but they were gone before he got a good look. “Where are they headed?”
“To the top of the ice. They’ll take turns riding down the chute that winds around the outside of the stronghold. You wouldn’t have seen it, coming in when there was a storm the way you did, but it is pretty impressive if I do say so myself. Took me nearly a year of my days off to make it.”
“You made it by yourself?” Audun asked.
“The little ones needed something to do when the weather is bad, seeing that it’s bad most days. Ice floe tag isn’t safe for the youngest during a storm. Sliding down the chute has become their favorite game. Ah, look, I was talking so much that I didn’t realize we were almost there. You go right through that door and wait for the councillors to send for you. Shouldn’t be long now.”
“Thank you,” Audun called, as the bigger dragon continued down the ramp.
“My pleasure!” Frostybreath rumbled over his shoulder.
Four
Following Frostybreath’s directions, Audun closed the door behind him and took a seat on a ledge. He was curling up to rest his chin on his foot when a door opened and a dragoness who wasn’t much older than he was peeked into the room. Gesturing for him to follow, she stepped aside as he slipped through the door.
“What do I do now?” Audun whispered. He had entered the largest chamber he had ever seen. A hundred dragons could have spread their wings and still had room to move around. At the far end of the room five great slabs of stone rose from the floor in a half circle with the open side facing Audun. The center slab was higher than Audun’s head, with the rest only a foot or so shorter. Carvings of dragons in flight covered the slabs and each slab supported a life-sized statue of a dragon.
“Answer their questions,” said the dragoness, and she disappeared into the room he’d just left, pulling the door shut behind her.
Audun looked around the room. It was more dimly lit than the antechamber had been, and encased in so much ice that the sunlight didn’t penetrate as well as it had at the upper levels. He assumed that another door, near the slabs, was the entrance for the king and his councillors. Keeping his ears perked for the sound of approaching feet, he padded across the stone floor, trying to see what famous dragons the statues might depict. Audun was only a dozen yards away when the statue in the center moved.
“That’s close enough, young dragon,” boomed a voice that seemed to make the walls shake.
Suddenly the torches on the walls flamed brighter and Audun realized that the shapes on top of the slabs weren’t carvings at all, but real dragons. And if they were real, then the one in the center must be King Stormclaw and the other four could only be his councillors.
Uncertain how to act before the king, Audun bowed so that his forelegs were bent and his chin almost touched the ground.
“You may rise,” said the king.
Audun glanced up. He’d heard that the king was always chosen from among the older dragons, but he didn’t think that King Stormclaw looked that old. His neck still supported his head proudly, his back was still straight, and his wings showed no tears or gaps; the only evidence of age was the dullness of his blue-white scales and the shortness of his fangs. He was an imposing dragon and must have been exceedingly handsome when he was young.
Audun dropped his gaze when he realized that the king was studying him just as carefully. Finally, Stormclaw spoke, although he wasn’t talking to Audun. “So, Song, I finally get to meet your grandson. He looks a lot like you, although I can see High Flier in him as well.”
Startled, Audun looked up and let his gaze follow that of the king. Two elderly dragonesses were seated to the right of King Stormclaw. One of them was a stranger to Audun. The other was his grandmother.
Audun was confused. When he’d last seen his grandmother, she’d been with the rest of his family on the way to their cave overlooking the sea. No one had mentioned that they were going to visit the king. He couldn’t imagine what might have happened to bring them here. Before he could ask, however, King Stormclaw turned to him and said, “I’ve been asking your grandmother to join my council for years, but she’s only just relented. You should be very proud of her. She’s a remarkable dragoness. A talent like hers is rare.”
Audun nodded, but the king wasn’t finished yet.
“Young dragon, why have you come to see me? Are you here to make sure that I’m treating your grandmother well? As one of my councillors, she’ll be among the most respected dragons in the kingdom.”
It took Audun a moment to realize that the king was waiting for him to say something. The problem was, Audun wasn’t sure quite how to phrase his request. Although the other councillors were watching him with interest, his grandmother’s gaze was as impassive as if she were the stranger. He had a feeling that he wasn’t going to get any help from her.
Audun was still trying to think of what to say when the pale gray and white dragoness seated beside the king leaned toward Stormclaw and whispered something.
“Ah, yes,” said the king, nodding. “I remember now. Iceworthy mentioned something about your wanting our help. Something about becoming a human, as I recall.”
“That’s right, Your Majesty,” said Audun.
King Stormclaw frowned. “A peculiar request, and one I’m not often asked. Why do you want to be a human, boy? Isn’t being a dragon good enough for you?”
“Being a dragon is the best thing in the world!” said Audun. “I don’t want to give up being a dragon altogether. It’s just that, well, there’s this girl . . .”
“Ah, I see,” said the king, the furrow in his brow relaxing. “You met a dragoness and you want to impress her. I can understand that, but there are far better ways to impress a girl than by turning into a human.”
“That’s just it,” said Audun. “The girl is a human, or at least part of the time. She can also be a dragon and when she is, she’s the most beautiful shade of green—”
The king snorted and twitched his tail. “There’s no such thing as a green dragon, and even if there were, no human could possibly turn into one without . . .”
Song of th
e Glacier leaned toward the dragoness beside her and whispered into her pointed ear. The two councillors carried on a short, whispered conversation before they both turned to the king.
“Do you have something to tell me, Song?” said King Stormclaw.
Song nodded. “I’ve seen the girl myself, Your Majesty. She can indeed turn into a green dragon. You were right in that no natural dragon is green, but she is a dragon through magic, which might explain her . . . unusual color.”
The king’s brow ridge rose in surprise. “A human who could do that must be able to harness some powerful magic! Why have I never heard of such a one before?”
“She isn’t from the Icy North,” said Audun. “I followed her trail south to a kingdom called Greater Greensward. She is a princess of royal blood as well as the daughter of a powerful witch who is a Dragon Friend.” The hiss of indrawn dragon breath nearly drowned out Audun’s next words. “Whether a human or a dragoness, she is a brave and true friend and . . . more than that, to me. I love her, Your Majesty, and I’ve learned that the only way I can ever be with her is if I can be a human just as she can be a dragon. I’ve been told that you might be able to help me. Can you, Your Majesty?”
King Stormclaw scowled even more fiercely than before, but it wasn’t Audun who received the first taste of his anger. “Did you know of this, Song of the Glacier? Did you know that your grandson is enamored of the Green Witch’s daughter? She is the only human living who dares to call herself Dragon Friend and if she is friend to the fire-breathers, she is no friend of ours. You have sorely neglected your grandson’s education if he doesn’t know of the enmity between us.”
Song of the Glacier raised her head and looked directly at the king. “What happened between our kind and theirs took place long ago. Few living today feel as you do about the fire-breathers, Your Majesty. I did not teach my grandson such a lesson because it is not a bias that I would want a young dragon to learn.”