Dragon Breeder 5

by Dante King

  “Giant cats,” I muttered, my heart rate picking up at the idea of seeing a cheetah as long as a stretch limo, or a lynx built like a polar bear. “That’s fucking badass!”

  “Speaking of badass,” Renji said, standing by the window and looking out into what would have been called the backyard back on Earth, “it looks to me like Brenna is shedding her cocoon!”

  We all hurried out into the strengthening blizzard and down to the spot where we had left the dragonling.

  The area was covered in fresh, pristine snow now, but where Brenna had been lying there was now a seething, swirling vortex of snow. The snow was being sucked into the ground like a giant plughole, but that didn’t seem right to me. Water vapor was billowing off the snowy eddy like geyser steam.

  Suddenly, there was a rumbling, cracking detonation from just under the ground, under the surface of the whirling snow.

  Brenna burst into being in a cloud of snow and ice, forcing all of us to throw up our hands to stop ourselves catching a face full of slush.

  Brenna gave a musical, shrieking call as she emerged, which shook snow from the branches off the trees nearest to us. She was the clear blue color of glacial ice and semitransparent so that I could see the very faint outline of a heart the size of an armchair pumping slowly and calmly in her great chest. Her tail reminded me of a jointed lance of some kind, and it was tipped with a silver-blue barb that had a very glaive-like quality to it. Her eyes and nostrils burned white in her long, equestrian face. Her head and neck were festooned with glittering barbs that looked more like ice than bone.

  “That’s got to be an Ice Dragon if ever there was one,” Renji breathed in delight from where she stood next to me.

  “I’m inclined to agree,” I said, my eyes wide. Reaching down, I clasped the djinn’s hand, and she squeezed mine in return.

  “You are both of you on the button with your surmise,” Brenna said, speaking into both mine and Renji’s minds at the same time. “I am indeed an Ice Dragon, Mother and Father.”

  Her voice, though I heard it in my head, was nonetheless as musical and modulating as the roaring call that everyone could hear. It was a voice of flutes and diamonds, of mountain streams and falling snow.

  With a cracking sound like a berg shearing off an iceshelf, Brenna opened her gorgeous translucent sapphire wings, each tipped with another icy spike. She turned her head to consider all of us who were all looking at her in complete awe.

  “Mother, Father,” she said politely, “would you mind excusing me? I yearn to try out these new wings of mine and see if I cannot best Pan’s fastest climbing time to the cirrocumulus.”

  I looked at Renji. “Your call, Mom.”

  Renji turned and smiled up at the newly hatched Ice Dragon.

  “You have the thread of the infinite at your wingtips, Brenna!” Renji said aloud. “Don’t let us stop you from reaching for it!”

  With a compression of giant muscles, Brenna’s legs crouched and then launched her skyward. Her wings thumped with enough force to send Tamsin staggering a step and made a sound like a fighter jet breaking the sound barrier.

  Looking around, I noticed that I was not the only one who was grinning like a damned fool as the Ice Dragon rose into gathering snow-laden clouds, a flash of sapphire against the misty white, and disappeared with an ebullient roar.

  Chapter 4

  It was decided by General Shiloh and Queen Frami that only a small four mancer team would be sent into the desert land of Akrit.

  As the most powerful dragonmancer by some margin, there was no question of me being left out. The fact that I could now, using the strange device that we had picked up from the dragon and bear-guarded castle temple, occupy multiple inventory slots with the same dragon was a tactical advantage that could not be overlooked.

  Obviously, Penelope was out of the running, now that she was almost back at the Drako Academy and about to start her search for how a bear cub was meant to break down solid crystal in a way that would make it easy to digest.

  I had made a tentative suggestion that to Tamsin after Brenna had taken off on her maiden flight and we had all trooped back into the warmth of the cabin.

  “What if we got one of our dragons to melt the crystal down so that the bear could suck it up like the dragonlings do?” I asked.

  “Nah,” the hobgoblin said, shaking her head and slipping her arm through mine as we walked back toward the steps, “the interiors of dragons are built like blast furnaces, like smelters, you know? Their insides have to deal with a phenomenal array of heats and pressures on a daily basis.”

  “Right,” I said, “so guzzling down a gallon or two of molten rock doesn’t really take too much of a physical toll on them.”

  Tamsin squeezed my bicep to tell me that I was right.

  So, along with myself, it was decided that I would be accompanied on this excursion by Tamsin and Renji from the Mystocean Empire. As a show of goodwill, though more likely she wanted an inside woman, Queen Frami insisted that Hana also tag along to represent the Vetruscan Kingdom.

  “I hope that me coming will not cramp your style in any way, Dragonmancer Noctis?” Hana asked me. She gave me a half-smile that pulled at the corners of her shiraz-colored eyes.

  “You coming anywhere could never cramp my style,” I said softly to her, my voice laced with so much innuendo that the beautiful bearmancer actually punched me on the arm and laughed. “But what about Rifa? Won’t you being far from him cause issues? He can’t come along with us, can he?”

  Hana shook her head. “There is a special place, an ancient place, where he can rest. As is the case with regular bears, they can hibernate. He will be safe here without me, but we should not leave it too long. As soon as Penelope finds out how to feed the Etherstone to him, I will be here for him.”

  The following morning, Saya and Elenari came to see me as I was checking over my pack for the journey.

  “What sort of provisions do the bearmancers take on extended journeys?” Elenari asked me as I replaced the packets of wrapped food that I had been investigating.

  “As far as I can tell,” I said, “I think that salted herrings play a pretty big part.”

  Saya pulled a face and brushed a strand of her ashy blonde hair back from her eyes. “Salted fish? Just the thing for the desert.”

  “Almost as good as dry Weetabix,” I laughed.

  Saya cocked her head to one side. “Earth thing?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Earth thing.”

  “You three may well laugh at our choice in provisions,” Hana said, walking around the side of the cabin with her own pack slung over her shoulder, “but, in all fairness, the salted herrings are rich in nutrients and will keep you alive.”

  “Yeah, but fish… in the desert?” Saya asked dubiously.

  Hana grinned. “If your dragons are anything like Bearne when it comes to their sense of smell, the herring will only be a last resort for when we cannot risk a fire or have no time to hunt.”

  “There’s hunting in the desert?” Elenari asked.

  Hana snorted softly. “I forget that you have never visited the flat expanses and rolling dunes of Akrit. Yes, there’s hunting to be done there. Animals and magical beasts have adapted to life there, just as they have done at the tops of the frozen mountains, at the bottoms of lakes and everywhere in between. Our mounts will help us bring down meat, and they will also help us find the watering holes and oases that are dotted sporadically throughout Akrit.”

  “Did I tell you how glad I am that you’re coming along?” I said to Hana.

  The bearmancer grinned, nodded to Saya and Elenari, and walked off to say her goodbyes to Rifa.

  “Speaking of coming along,” I said, fastening the last strap on my pack and sitting back on my haunches. “Why the hell is it that you two aren’t coming with us? I tried to ask General Shiloh last night, but she just told me to watch my step, as carefully as if I was walking over eggshells.”

  “And what did you say to
that?” Elenari asked me, one red eyebrow raised slightly as if she already guessed the answer.

  “I told her that I had never understood that expression. If you’re walking on eggshells, then surely that means the eggs are already broken, so who gives a shit.”

  Saya laughed, leaned forward, and kissed me on the cheek. “Ah, a part of me wishes that we were coming with you, Mike.”

  “Only a part?” I asked innocently. “And what part would that be exactly?”

  Saya laughed again and struck me good-naturedly in the shoulder.

  “Quit with your messing about,” she said. “I mean it. However, Elenari and I have other duties to concentrate on.”

  I stood up from where I had been squatting and looked at Elenari. My eyebrows were raised in a silent appeal for her to elaborate and not leave me on tenterhooks.

  The elf rolled her eyes at me and looked at Saya, who shrugged and said, “He is our husband.”

  Elenari leaned in toward me so that I had to bend a little to meet her. Her lips tickled my ear in a deliciously warm way.

  “General Shiloh had word from the Overseer,” she told me. “Saya and I are to be trained up so that we can be inducted into the Twelve!”

  I leaned back and stared into Elenari’s dazzling green eyes. Then I flicked my gaze sideways and caught Saya’s bright blue ones.

  “Holy shit,” I said, “that is… that is massive news!”

  “Shhhhh,” Elenari said, swatting at me with the back of her hand but grinning all the same.

  The Twelve were a specially chosen dozen dragonmancers whose sole occupation was to carry out the direct orders of the Empress Cyrene of the Mystocean Empire.

  “Shit, so that means that you’ll be getting trained up by Ashrin and Jazmyn?” I asked.

  Saya nodded her head enthusiastically. “That’s right! Fuck, Mike, can you imagine getting taught the art of fighting on dragonback by two of the most skilled warriors of our time?”

  A movement over by the treeline caught my attention. It was Hana. She was waving at me.

  “I’m going to have to imagine it,” I told the two women standing in front of me.

  I clutched each of their faces in my hands in turn and kissed them hard on the lips.

  “Looks like we’re taking off,” I said. “Remember, I’m absolutely stoked for you guys. Delighted! But, you’re still my wives, don’t forget about me when you’re strutting about as part of the Twelve, hm?”

  Elenari laughed lightly. “I don’t think you have to worry about Saya and I eclipsing the deeds that Fate has in store for you, Mike.”

  “Yes,” Saya said, “it’s obvious that you are a mancer that has been marked for glory by whatever gods organize such things, Mike.”

  “Marked for glory,” I scoffed. “I feel like I spend most of my time getting the shit kicked out of me, only just scraping through. I spend a lot of my time dusting myself off and getting to my feet so that I can take another whooping by life.”

  “And is there anything more glorious than that?’ Saya asked me seriously.

  She had a point there.

  “Take care of our children, Mike Noctis,” Elenari said, “and good luck.”

  “You too,” I said, shouldering my pack.

  We took off in the clear cold light just after dawn. There was no wind to speak of. I was riding Wayne, reasoning that his broken white, black, and gray hide, the color of wood ash, would blend more easily into the cloud above us.

  Tamsin, Renji, and I—with Hana riding behind me—ascended into the sky. I felt the combined delight of my dragons running through my veins.

  “Have you any idea what lies in wait for us in this desert land that they call Akrit, Father?” Pan asked me in that polite way of his.

  “Nope, not a clue,” I replied.

  “Except for the giant cats, right, Dad?” Cyan, my other female dragon progeny said.

  “Except for the giant cats, that’s right,” I agreed.

  “Cats in the desert doesn’t sound right to me,” Wayne said as he leveled out, flapped his wings a couple of times, and began to cruise the thermals.

  “Why, brother?” Garth asked. “Why should cats be somewhere and not somewhere else?”

  “Fur in the desert sounds hot. Uncomfortable,” Wayne, the Smog Dragon, insisted.

  “Fur works both ways, I think,” I said, digging up a bit of National Geographic magazine supplied knowledge. “It’s an insulator. Keeps their own body heat in during cold weather and stops them taking in too much heat in hot conditions.”

  “That makes logical sense,” Pan agreed. “It would also be the perfect survival adaptation for creatures living in an environment where it fluctuates between bitterly cold at night and searing hot in the day.”

  I smiled to myself and zoned out of the science lesson taking place in my head. It was incredible how quickly I had adapted to having my brain turn into a sort of family lounge room, where the consciousnesses of Noctis, Garth, Wayne, Pan, Cyan, and Brenna could all chat to one another.

  Below us the countryside was a carpet of rippling, undulating white that led to the foothills of low mountains on the southern horizon. These southern peaks, known to the Vetruscans as the Bear Teeth, were where we would cross over into Akrit.

  We flew over the Vetruscan southlands; barren and empty except for great herds of peryton—massive deer with the wings of birds folded across their flank—grazing in their thousands.

  At the end of the second day, we crossed the natural barrier of the Bear Teeth, dropped down to where the air temperature was a little less brisk, and suddenly found ourselves looking out over the desert of Akrit.

  “It’s so… flat,” Tamsin said, her voice carrying over the rushing roar of the wind thanks to that innate magical ability that allowed dragonmancers to communicate with one another. It didn’t matter whether it was during the heat of battle or in the middle of a thunderstorm, we could talk to one another as easily as if we were sitting across a table and enjoying a nice caramel latte.

  “Yep,” I replied, “that’s the desert for you.”

  It wasn’t entirely true, but I could see what the hobgoblin meant. For someone like Tamsin, who had spent her childhood and adolescent years in the giddy heights, tangled forests, and labyrinthine passages of the Grimteeth Mounds, it must have looked damn flat. Where the Bear Teeth mountain range stopped, there were a few miles of lackluster hills and craggy gorges and then the peaks simply dropped away into dust and sand and flat expanses of sand swept rock.

  That night we camped on the very edge of a vast expanse of sand that stretched out as far as the eye could see—even an eye as acute and far-seeing as that of a dragonmancer. We rolled out our blankets on a natural step of sandy rock, which looked to be the last solid piece of ground for the next three miles at least. I doubted that beyond the horizon there was anything but more sand and grit, but I couldn’t be certain.

  The low plateau was barren of anything except a few scrubby bushes and a couple of desiccated tree trunks bleached bone white by the sun and dried until they were the texture of pumice.

  Using my dragon-fueled muscles, I actually punched and pummeled a shallow indentation out of the solid rock so that we could light a fire which would not be seen by any eyes out in the desert.

  We spent the night relaxing on our bedrolls and talking of this and that. The quiet of the desert was different to the quiet of the mountains. There was less to it; there was no sound of the wind whispering through the branches and needles of the trees, no chatter of birds, no rushing chuckle of moving water. There was only the occasional mournful squeak of some creature out in the night, the hiss of moving sand stirred by a lazy breeze and the crackle of the dry wood burning in our impromptu fire pit.

  It was a lonely place. Desolate, but magnificently peaceful too.

  The next morning, we set off, taking to the air once again.

  Fyzos, Tamsin’s Force Dragon mount, was a deep, honey yellow color, with a triangular head
stuck at the end of a medium-length neck. His black wings beat in time with Brenna’s, who I was flying, and his unicorn-like horn that stood out from his forehead glinted in the early morning sun.

  When I had first seen Renji’s Steel Dragon, Corvar, the creature had reminded me of a cross between a Komodo dragon and a full-on armored knight; all scintillating, smooth, mirror-bright flanks, and a tail like a mercury bullwhip. The beautiful beast had been so shiny that I could have used its torso as a shaving mirror, then. Now, she was of such a size that a squad of ballerinas could quite easily have practiced their cabrioles and tour jetés along her sides. As I watched her admiringly, Corvar regarded me out of one glittering white eye, opened her mouth, and darted a long, forked quicksilver tongue out to taste the air.

  Crossing that great empty expanse of desert might have been a real pain in the ass if not for our dragons. As it was, it was like taking a scenic flight the likes of which I could never have dreamed of taking back when I lived on Earth in Los Angeles.

  Every now and again, Hana would let out a little gasp, or else she would hug me a little more tightly, as she saw something that stirred her. Casting an eye over my shoulder to make sure that the bearmancer was not going to freak out on me, I saw a couple of silvery tear tracks running from the corners of her large eyes.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  Hana beamed. “Of course I’m okay, Mike Noctis!” she replied with gusto and heart, pressing herself hard to my back. “Would you not look at what we are doing right now? We are blessed, don’t you think?”

  “I—I guess so…” I said.

  “You guess so?” she said mockingly, giving me a pinch in a place that was not protected by my armor.

  “Ow,” I laughed. “All right, yeah, we’re blessed. We’re flying over a desert at daybreak on the back of a dragon. What’s not to like about it? We’re on the leading edge of an adventure, right where mancers should be, right?”

  “That is absolutely right,” Hana purred in my ear. “Right on the leading edge of an adventure—that special place that makes you feel strong, even if you might not actually be strong.”