Dragonseers and Airships

by Chris Behrsin

  I tried touching Velos down on the platform. But it had lifted itself up at too sharp an angle, and his claws ended up glancing off it. I yelped, then pulled the dragon to the left slightly to stop us tumbling down as well. Fortunately, he managed to push himself back into the air. But he lost his control a little bit and we ended up spinning in a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree barrel roll off to the side. While before I could see the sky above, now I could see only churning grey water and it was approaching fast.

  Blood pulsing to my temples, I pulled hard on Velos’ steering fin to turn him around again. The world spun out of control for what felt like several minutes, but what must have been only a few seconds. Then, we were flying straight, looking askew at the horizon, the dragon carrier behind us. I turned back to Wiggea who now was leaning over Velos’ flank, trying to find enough coordination to turn the spigot. Faso had always kept how to operate the armour as his own secret, claiming it was much too complicated for anyone but the best of minds to understand.

  A column of water lashed up from the sea and whisked against my face. The saltiness stung my eyes and I squinted and yelped out in pain. No, I couldn’t lose focus. We weren’t going to get wiped out by a stupid storm after we’d come so far in the war against Cini and Alsie. That wouldn’t be doing justice to Sukina.

  I turned Velos around so we could approach the platform once again. It had levelled out relatively straight but had now started to tip in the other direction and was accelerating that way fast. If we came in too slowly, we’d miss once again. The wind was getting even stronger around us now. I found myself getting jostled around in my seat, and if it wasn’t for the harness that pushed hard against my chest to keep me there, I’m sure Wiggea and I would have been eaten up by the waters.

  I could feel Velos also fading. His wings were tiring. He’d never had to battle conditions like this before. “Keep it steady Velos,” I said. “We can make it.”

  And, as if answering my call, the armour started to warm a little beneath my feet. Faint green lights began to flow through it, cutting paths through the murk, and flaring in my augmented vision. Underneath that, Velos also began to shake and a determined growl rumbled through him. I could also feel the resolve in his spirit, and with it I began to sing a song into the storm that would help clear his head.

  As we approached the deck, it rose even higher on the wave. The woman there had stayed clinging on to the pipe on the superstructure, and again was waving us in. I narrowed my eyes and kept my hand firm on the steering fin, pushing it with slight micromovements to help guide Velos downwards. Meanwhile, Velos detracted his claws and readied them to clutch on to the grooves that had been drilled into the metal plates on the ship’s floor to give dragons purchase when landing. But still the deck continued to rise, and the prow was now so high above us, that I had to crane my head to see the top of it.

  “Brace,” I shouted. And I ducked down as low as I can. Velos clunked against the metalwork of the ship and this time, dragonheats, he wasn’t going to let go. I felt the pain tear into his claws, and he roared to the wind, shaking the armour and sending terror through my bones. The green light in the armour pulsed ever stronger, and I increased the volume of my song. “Hold on, Velos,” I thought. Because I knew he’d be able to hear the sentiment in the emotion, though not the words. Underneath us, the sea boiled like a vat of acid. It would be so easy for Velos to let go, and let the sea take us under its strong currents.

  The prow continued to rise, and the boat continued to tip, and even more secicao pulsed through Velos’ armour giving him the strength to hold on. And I clutched on to the handlebars with my dear life, an intense throbbing lancing in my fingertips, a result of sharing the pain tearing through Velos’ claws. I felt sick, and I felt Velos wanting to give up. And I wanted to quit too. To join Sukina and not have the burden of responsibility anymore. Not to have to hold on.

  But no. Fortress Gerhaun needed me… Taka needed me.

  “Are you okay, Maam?” I could only barely make out Wiggea’s shouting through the roar of the wind and thunder.

  I didn’t say anything though. I had to focus on my song, each note of the harmony giving Velos strength. His claws were slipping from the metalwork. In only moments, he’d slide off. A rope came sailing through the air behind me attached to a grappling hook. Wiggea had thrown it towards the radar. But it missed by inches and fell towards the sea.

  Then, Velos lost his last ounce of strength. We began not to slide, but tumble in a sickening roly-poly down the deck that Velos had no chance to recover from. Now, we were certainly at the mercy of the laws of nature. My head glanced off the metalwork, and I screamed out as numbing pain seared through my skull. The world spun around me, and all I saw was grey metal and grey sky.

  But although nature often brings bad luck, it also often brings incredible fortune. As Velos tumbled, the boat began to change direction. Despite the waves of concussion passing through my head, I could sense that we were slowing. Velos managed to dig his claws once again into the metalwork and we jerked to a halt.

  “Velos,” I said. Though my voice was weak.

  The woman on deck had now opened a set of double doors into a room that led to a platform. Inside, was a winch hooked to a pulley. The woman rushed inside, took out the hook, and trailed it out towards us. The ship tilted against her, but still she kept low and scrambled up to us so she could attach the hook to the side of Velos’ armour. The woman slipped back into the compartment and kicked a lever to activate the winch mechanism. The cogs inside clicked into life and Velos retracted his claws. We slid inside and the woman kicked shut the double doors. She proceeded to turn a crank handle on the opposite wall that lowered the platform into the hull, where fifty Grey dragons were tucked in safe and sound.

  I’d never been inside one of Gerhaun’s Dragon Carriers before and had often wondered about these massive ships that could release a flock into battle so quickly. In a way, they were one of the most important weapons Gerhaun owned, since they increased the range that the dragons could attack from. Each carrier had seen many battles, particularly in skirmishes against Cini’s forces at the southern barrier in an attempt to disrupt some of the larger secicao harvesting operations. And although this ship was smaller than Admiral Sandao’s super-carriers, it was still quite an impressive piece of engineering.

  The holding area containing the stables within the hull was surprisingly cavernous. From the outside, the carriers seemed quite flat. But the whole structure extended deep into the water with enough height to hold three coloured dragons standing on top of another. They’d designed the larger carriers not just to hold the Greys, but also in the case that they’d need to smuggle a dragon queen out of the Southlands, should one of the bases be discovered.

  The manually operated elevator led down to the centre, from where a long corridor extended to each end of the ship. Each side of each end of the corridor had twelve big doors, with stables containing Grey dragons behind them and a trough full of secicao to feed them. A further stable stood at each end of the corridor, making up fifty in total. There were also four large rooms at the corners the boat, and two on each side of the elevator for stationing Sandao’s marines and whoever else might be one board. Of course, there was also space in the upper superstructure for officers and sailors on duty. But now, I had no doubt that the majority of the squad was here in the hull where they’d be safest from the storm.

  The woman who had saved us on deck saluted us once the elevator hit the bottom. She was one of Sandao’s marines, and the epaulettes on her shoulder suggested she also had officer rank. She was older than I’d expected, with a wrinkled forehead, and a plump, ruddy face. But despite that, she still had quite a muscular build.

  “This way, Maam,” she said and led us towards the stable at the stern of the ship. “All of the stables are full here. But the back stable is biggest so I’m sure the Grey could make room.”

  I shrugged. Velos wouldn’t like that one bit. But then, it
would probably do him good to be in close quarters with one of the Greys. Even if they saw him as kind of different.

  “Thank you,” I said. “And wait.”

  The woman stopped in her tracks. “What can I do for you, Maam?”

  The ship rocked in a sickening way and with that and the concussion from where I’d hit my head I kind of felt like throwing up. But I kept it down as this woman deserved to be commended for her courage.

  “What’s your name? I’ll make sure to mention your brave act to Admiral Sandao.”

  The woman blushed. “Why, thank you. I’m most honoured. The name’s Talato. Ensign Gereve Talato, Maam.” And she saluted again.

  She led Velos and I down the long corridor, Wiggea trailing slightly behind. At first, I sensed Velos’ resistance. But it didn’t last long, as he soon realised that he had nowhere better to go. It was incredibly difficult to move. With every step I took, the storm sent me stumbling against the walls. But within a few minutes, we reached the stable at the back and Ensign Telato opened the double doors to let us inside.

  A Grey had secured itself against the left-hand wall. Velos bared its teeth at the Grey when we entered and the Grey whimpered and backed up against the wall. So, I sang a sharp stochastic noted song to admonish Velos. In this kind of situation, as well as in the fiercest battles, he’d have to learn to get on with his peers, no matter what grudges he held against them.

  Velos whimpered and retreated to the other corner of the spacious metallic room, while the Grey turned his head defiantly away from us and rested it on the floor. There was little in the way of entertainment here. It was literally a dark holding cell with a long oil lit tube spanning the ceiling and a trough at the back of the room. The light from the ceiling reflected off the chrome walls and suffused it in a bright light. But as the ship rocked, the lights sputtered, and I wondered if at some point the bulb would twist out of the ceiling and plunge the room into darkness.

  “We’re here Maam,” Esnsign Talato saluted again. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll join my comrades in the bunk.”

  I nodded. “Dismissed,” I said.

  “Thank you Maam. You’re most welcome to join us by the way. The sickness will affect you less if you’re lying down.”

  I looked across at Velos’s head now resting low against the deck. My stomach was starting to churn a little, I admit. Although, I’d developed a little resistance to travel sickness, due to the fact I’d been riding Velos most my life (and maybe partly also due to my genes as a Dragonseer). “I’ll be fine here,” I said.

  The ensign saluted a third time. Then, he left the stable and made her way down the corridor to the other end of the ship. And I lay down on the cold steel floor. Which wasn’t the smartest thing to do, as I almost slid down to the other end of the room. But Velos put his leg over me to secure me in place.

  Meanwhile, Wiggea got thrown against the other Grey dragon.

  “Maam, they have harnesses to secure you in place in the bunks,” he said.

  “I have Velos thanks,” I said. “But maybe you’d like to strap yourself into the armour and keep me company?” And unprofessional as it may have seemed, I may have added a little demure tone to my voice.

  He lowered his head, sheepishly and let off a weak smile. “I think my place is with the guards, Maam.”

  “And leave a lady all alone with two dragons?” I think I was probably a little giddy from the concussion I’d experienced on deck. So maybe I was letting my emotions get ahead of me a little.

  Wiggea’s voice sounded a little stifled. “You’ll be safe here, I think.” And he left the room.

  I lay flat on my back, listening to the breathing of Velos and the Grey for a while. It must have been the concussion, for the rest of the storm didn’t bother me so much. And I soon found myself rocked vigorously to sleep.

  11

  When I awoke the next day, the storm had abated quite significantly. I had no idea how long I had been out. But it was light outside, I could see that, since the doors to all the stables had been left wide open, as well as the overhead hatches on the ceilings, except for the one I was in.

  The elevator was at the upper level, and a couple of sailors stood at attention next to where the platform should be. The boat was also rocking a lot less, although I still felt a little nauseous, probably from not eating anything for the last however many hours it had been.

  Velos began to croon as I awoke and I rubbed the scales at the front of his head, feeling his hot breath buffet over me. I stood up, walked to the doors, almost finding myself startled by Wiggea outside.

  “Good morning Maam,” he said. “The storm turned around rather quickly and is now heading back towards southern Cadigan mainland. Fortunately, the eye passed by our fleet by a good few dozen miles.”

  “Morning is it?” I rubbed my eyes. The storm had hit us late afternoon, which meant I must have been out for well through the night.

  “To be honest, it’s almost afternoon. But regardless, breakfast is being served in the officer’s mess hall, even for the late risers. See it as a celebration meal for us all getting through the night. That was quite a storm, Maam.”

  “Yes, I guess we’ve been gifted by some good fortune. Maybe the Gods Themselves are looking over us after all.”

  Wiggea smiled. “I doubt that, Maam. I’d rather like to believe we make our own luck. Admiral Sandao has some of the most able-bodied sailors in the world.”

  “I’m sure he does,” I said. “And I’d love to eat here, but surely we should be getting back to the Saye Explorer?” I no longer felt like flirting with my trainer and most dedicated dragonelite guard. It wasn’t that he was any less endearing, just I had an absolutely splitting headache after the knock to my head and I wasn’t really in the mood.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Maam. Sandao has ordered that we should rest here for the next twelve hours or so. Give Velos some time to recover and make sure that the storm doesn’t change its mind and turn back towards us.”

  “How long until we arrive at Paradise Reef?”

  “Oh, still a couple of days yet. Assuming we have favourable weather from here on, that is.”

  “Well, I better go up and have breakfast. Are you coming?”

  “I’ve already eaten, Maam. But, of course, I’ll accompany you.”

  “Very well,” I said. And I made towards the elevator. Velos let out a groan once I left and the other Grey, surprisingly, joined in his lament.

  “Don’t worry,” I said to Velos. “I’ll also bring some back for you.” Just because he fed primarily on secicao didn’t mean he didn’t like a bit of bacon every now and again. The Grey then let off a moan, and I sighed. “I guess that goes for both of you,” I said. And I left hoping Velos had made a new friend.

  The two sailors standing by the elevator saluted me as I approached. They wore navy blue suits and cravats. One of them turned the crank handle to lower the elevator. It let out a loud mechanical groan and then came down fast. The ship was still a little wonky and I massaged my stomach to alleviate the knot there. Soon the platform arrived and Wiggea and I stepped on it. Another sailor had manned it, who saluted and then wound another crank handle to lift us up into the open world.

  The rest of the journey was rather uneventful in comparison to what had just happened. After the last vestiges of the storm had cleared from the sky, we had uninterrupted sunshine for the rest of the way. The sailors on board still milled around their business, saluting as they passed, but not having too much time to talk otherwise. They were too busy repairing the boat from the storm damage.

  This gave me plenty of time to talk with Wiggea. I’d learned a lot from him as my trainer, but otherwise he’d kept pretty much to himself so far, and I had never been able to get him to open up. But this time I decided I’d ask him directly about his personal life. And surprisingly, he turned out to be quite open about it.

  “I had a wife once,” he told me. We were sitting on a metal bench at
the side of the ship, looking out at the dirty smoke coming out of the two funnels on the Saye Explorer. This was the morning after the storm had hit. The boat was still rocking a little, which made it much more comfortable to sit up on deck and stare out at the horizon and the endlessly churning sea, sparkles glistening on the waves like little fairies.

  “In Tow?” I asked.

  “No,” he said. “I come from Cadigan. The south side in the city of Oahastin.”

  “I know of it,” I said. Oahastin was one of the major colonies there, around a quarter of the size Slaro, the capital city of Tow, and growing fast. “But I’ve never been there.”

  “There’s not much to shout home about, to be honest. The land is flat and the terrain around a complete desert, with some bony mountains rising above it. They built the city around a natural river coming from the mountains. But other than along the riverbanks and up in the hills, there’s hardly any life around for miles.”

  I nodded. “So what happened to your wife? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

  “King Cini…” Wiggea said. “The dragonheats.”

  The dragonheats? Wellies, Wiggea must have been much older than he looked. “The wars reached as far as Cadigan? I thought…”

  Wiggea lowered his head towards the water. “She was a dragonseer. Or at least, her mother was. She never had a chance to meet a dragon queen and become one. King Cini’s father decided to hunt her down as soon as he learned who she was.”

  I felt for him then. I had no idea how much he’d suffered all these years. And so, Faso wasn’t the only one around who’d had a relationship with a departed dragonseer. But Wiggea was much, much more noble than Faso. Much more of a man in many ways, with a lot less tendency to complain.

  “The mother?” I asked. “Who was she?”