Monk Feodor nodded once more. “Agreed. You three are the first group. Pick up your goads and chains and follow me. The rest of you students wait here.”
“But, sir, this isn’t fair,” Terrence called out in his high, outraged voice. “I’m the son of a prince, I should get the honor to go first.”
“Terrence Aldo, it is precisely because you are a true-blooded son of a prince of the realm that I am leaving you here,” Monk Feodor snarled back. “Do not be so eager to die, Aldo, and wait here with the others.”
I watched as Terrence made the calculation that Monk Feodor thought my life (also as a daughter of a prince, but a bastard one) was more expendable than his was. I felt that familiar sting of anger and frustration, but knew that Feodor was just trying to find a way to save lives. Enough time for old rivalries, Char, I counselled myself. Who cares what Terrence Aldo and the Southern Kingdom thought of us northerners? Right now, I had to stop my friends from dying.
We hurried, half scrambling and half climbing through the gap in the cavern wall to emerge into the gloomy greying light of the sandy, warm, boulder-strewn crater outside.
“Right, well, the dragons will still be mostly groggy from sleep, and hopefully any of those that are awake will be subdued by those caterwauling dragon pipes,” Feodor said doubtfully, before turning to me. “Nefrette? You said that you’ve done this before, what do we do?”
I was shocked by the older monk’s sudden faith in me, and I looked to Neill.
“You can do it, Char,” he whispered.
This might save a dragon from Zaxx, I thought. If I can encourage another young dragon to flee the crater with us, or stop the other students from getting themselves eaten…
“The mother caves,” I said, feeling both anxious and excited. Maybe I could actually do some good here. “There are some younger dragons in there.” I picked up one of the goads, and Neill picked up the other beside me, leaving Lila to carry the chains. I knew instinctively that it shouldn’t be either me or Neill trying to learn how to connect with another dragon. We already had done so over Paxala.
“There are some yearlings in there, under one of the Brood Whites,” Feodor said, leading the way carefully past the boulders and through the green, jungle-like giant ferns. I noticed that he wore heavier leather armor, studded with bits of metal, and he had strapped to his back a round buckler shield, and a metal mace at his belt. He had not come dressed to make friends with a dragon, but to protect his students from one.
It was impossible to think of anything being still asleep around us with the dragon pipes reverberating and echoing throughout the crater. For a moment, I got a sense of how it must feel to be a dragon, with this oppressive yammering beating down on them, grating on their ears, even as we reached the low-lying caves where the brood dragons lay. This area of the crater seemed less populated than some of the others, with fewer Messenger or Earth dragons and almost none of the larger breeds.
Perhaps dragons know to stay away from a brood mother, I thought, biting my lip. Unlike humans. I had once seen my father try to help one of the tough little mountain ponies through the birth of her foal. My father, the Prince Lander, was like that, as were most of the Northern kingdom; practical, and resilient. The mare had refused all aid and kicked him full in the chest, before taking herself off to the corners of her stable where she birthed the foal herself without any help.
“It isn’t from fear the other dragons stay away,” Paxala’s voice suddenly broke into my mind. “It is from respect.”
My heart plummeted. Respect was almost precisely what we weren’t doing. I considered asking Paxala how we might show respect for the brood mothers, but then I realized--Paxala knew what we were doing. Would she endanger herself to help me if—when-- things went awry?
“Wait, I’ll see which cave she is in.” Feodor snuck forward, unslinging the shield and holding it across the front of his body as he edged to the lip of the middle of three caves and peered in.
Two screeching blue shapes sprang out from the caves, each small by dragon’s standards (about the size of a small stable). Feodor gasped as he hit the floor and rolled out of the way, and we were looking at the two, inquisitive faces of sinuous, long-necked blue dragons, barely a year old. They hissed and tasted the air with their long tongues, reaching their heads forward and back.
“Which one, Char, which one?” Neill was saying, holding the goad awkwardly in front of him. I couldn’t blame him. This was an insane way to try and make friends with a dragon.
“The younger,” Feodor said gruffly, pointing to the dragon on the far side of him. “Just see how close you can get, don’t frighten them!”
They’re both terrified already. I took a step forward, raising my goad out as Neill did the same a few meters away from me. “I’ll try and hold the front left foot,” I said, hating myself as I said so.
“Front left,” Neill agreed, as just behind us Lila readied the chains into a loop.
This couldn’t be happening. What was I doing? This wasn’t the right way to make friends with a dragon, I thought, taking a ginger step forward. But it was the best I could do with the situation the Abbot had forced us into, I reminded myself. If we could succeed today, we might manage to make things better for at least a few of the dragons.
As fast as lightning the older blue lunged forward, seizing the goad I held before I could even approach its younger sibling, clamping it in its long jaws. I couldn’t help but see the creature’s needle-sharp fangs as it clutched one end of the goad, and shook its head.
“Woah,” I hollered as the young dragon yanked me forward a few meters.
“Char-” Feodor gasped.
And then I was thrown back, the metal goad falling from my hand as I tumbled over the ground. I heard a snarl from nearby as a shadow fell over me.
There was grunting and a scuffing of feet and I rolled onto my knees to see that both Feodor and Neill had rushed to stand between the older blue dragonet and me. Feodor had his shield held aloft (puny against even a yearling) and Neill still held the goad warningly in front of them.
“Er, friends?” whispered a girl’s voice. It was Lila. She was still standing across from the youngest blue dragonet with the chains, and she was cut off from us. Oh no. This was now no longer a dragon training mission, but a rescue mission.
“What do I do?” Lila was whispering, holding the chains in front of her at the youngest dragon, as we tried to fend off the slightly larger.
“Char – run back to the others. Get help,” Feodor hissed, but I knew getting more students would only enrage the dragons more.
“No. Lila, listen to me.” I remembered what the meeting last night had said about the explorer Versi and the southern desert tribes. “You have to drop the chain. Slowly.”
“What?” The Pirate girl said. “Are you mad – this is the only defense that I have!”
“The dragons are scared. They’ll never do anything but attack if they’re scared,” I said. “You have to trust me, Lila, the larger blue is protecting its sibling, because it thinks we’re going to attack it.”
Which we were. A hot shame ran through me. Damn the Abbot and his crazy ideas. He probably didn’t care if we succeeded or failed. He could count our mission a success, whether we captured a dragon or became an offering for Zaxx—live bait for the Abbot’s plans.
“Are you sure about this, Nefrette?” Feodor said. “We might be able to defeat one young dragon between us.”
“No! Please trust me – Lila, drop the chain and step back. Show both dragons you don’t mean them any harm,” I begged her, as even the youngest dragon towered over my friend, ready to pounce.
CHAPTER 6
NEILL, AND ZAXX’S MESSAGE
She’s going to die. Panic clutched at my heart as I risked a glance at Lila. The other side of the sandy crater could not feel farther away.
“Steady boy, watch the eyes,” Feodor said through gritted teeth from where he crouched in front of me. We had natura
lly fallen into one of the advanced maneuvers he had taught the Protectors just last week, with him kneeling before me with a raised shield, and me standing behind with spear held in the air. It was a maneuver from his soldiering days, the man had said, designed to take out cavalry. I wasn’t sure what good (if any) it would do against dragons.
“Char…?” I said nervously, looking at the older blue dragon. It was puffing its long throat muscles, trying to summon the fire that I knew that some of the older, mature dragons could create. I hoped that this was not the time that it would suddenly realize how to do it.
“Lila, you have to trust the dragon in front of you,” Char was hissing at our friend.
“Trust it do what, eat me?” Lila almost shouted. She still gripped the chains Feodor had given her, but she had lowered them to just over the floor. Lila Penna was from a proud Southern Raider people – what Terrence and his father would call Pirates as they spent half their time on their fast and narrow boats, heading northwards up the coast, involved in endless disputes and skirmishes. Asking her to give up her weapons was like asking these dragons to be humble.
But then I saw something incredible happen. Char rolled across the floor towards Lila, before slowly pushing herself up.
“Char? What are you doing – get out of there!” Monk Feodor was growling in front of me. I could see the white scars all over the back of his bald head and neck rippling as the muscles underneath them tensed.
“It’s okay, Lila, shh… It’s going to be okay,” Char was saying, holding both unarmed hands out, one towards the dragon’s snout and the other to Lila. It would almost be comical if it hadn’t been so life threatening, as it reminded me of just the way I would try to get between my brawling brothers.
“Char, what do I do?” I heard Lila whisper.
“Try to relax,” Char was saying. “She’s scared. They both are.”
“She?” Monk Feodor growled, moving back and forth on the balls of his feet.
“They’re both female,” Char said. “You can tell by the markings below the ears.”
“You can?” Feodor marveled and I wondered how the heck Char had learned this but then the dragon made a feinting lunge and I came back to the moment, gritting my teeth in frustration. I didn’t like having Char out there with Lila, at the mercy of the blue dragonet, but even if it was only a yearling, with dawn fast approaching and the rest of the dragons about to wake up, I knew that it was our only chance. Char cooed at the youngest dragon soothingly, and beckoned Lila to do the same.
The youngest dragon made a high-pitched chirruping noise, just like Paxala did when she was interested in something. I watched as she cocked her head to one side, and then darted her neck forward then back, forward again and back.
“What? How is she doing that?” Feodor whispered to me.
“It’s Char,” was the only answer I had.
To me it looked like Char was conducting music. She moved her hand gently, beckoning to the youngest dragon all the while talking to it; a soft murmur of words that didn’t stop for a second. I had seen horse whisperers do the same thing at fairs on my father’s land.
“Lila, come here,” the Princess of the Northern Kingdom called, and Lila took a halting step forward beside Char.
“What do I do?” the dark-skinned girl muttered as she looked up in wonder at the blue dragonet. It was barely a few feet away.
“I don’t know,” Char said, taking a step back. “I think she has to meet you first…” Another step back and Char had left Lila alone in front of the younger dragon, the chain forgotten on the ground behind.
“Look at you, girl, look how strong you are already,” Lila said in awe. The beast, who appeared to like being complimented, lowered her snout to gently snuff the air above the girl.
“That’s it…” Char said, continuing to step back until she got to us. “I think it’s going to be okay. We should leave the older sister too,” she said, and amazingly the Monk Feodor agreed, giving me terse whispered instructions to step back slowly and to slowly lower the goad. The older blue dragon watched our every movement, but seemed to approve of what we were doing, as she stopped bellowing her lungs.
“Ha! Look at those teeth you have, you are a fierce princess yourself, aren’t you?” Lila was congratulating the youngest blue, reaching up an open hand.
“Skrip-pip,” the blue chirruped once more, lowering its snout to rub it against the Raider’s palm like a cat.
“There. She’s done it. Nefrette’s done it!” Feodor was saying in amazement, and we all felt relief blossom around us like spring.
Until it was broken by the blare of the dragon pipes.
BWAAR! BWAAAR! Instantly, the dragonets flinched and shook their sensitive heads, hissing at the skies, and then at us as they reared up on their back legs. They didn’t understand what was going on, or why.
“The pipes,” Char cursed. “They’re hurting them.”
Lila scrambled back from the rearing Blue, and there was a rumble from the ground beneath followed by the approaching crunch of heavy, monstrous feet. Lila’s eyes went wide as she realized the same thing I did: It must be one of the brood mothers, or perhaps Zaxx himself. None of us had any illusions that we might be able to perform the same soothing tricks with and angry mother or the bull dragon.
“Right, all of you – get back!” Feodor shouted, and we needed no encouragement to race past the giant ferns and boulders to the crack in the crater wall where the other students would be waiting, watching. Monk Feodor was the last to run behind us, and I got to the small gap in the rocks to help first Lila and then Char, who looked at me oddly.
“I don’t need help, Neill!” Char snapped.
I felt a flash of stupidity. “Oh yeah, of course…” It had just seemed like something that I should do – to protect them. Not that either of the tough girls needed it.
“WHO DISTURBS US! WHY THIS RACKET!? WHAT INTRUDERS DO I SMELL?” The voice of the great golden bull erupted into our minds, and I couldn’t stop myself from shouting in pain. It was like a fierce gale suddenly blowing through my thoughts. There was a thrashing from the ferns and plants and a rumbling of rocks as his golden body burst from one of the many hidden caves nearby.
“Get into the tunnels, quickly Torvald,” Feodor shouted, turning to raise his tiny shield and metal mace in the air. I did as I was told, clambering through the rock, but even as hands grabbed my arms and pulled me through, I could see on the faces of the assembled students that they too could hear what Zaxx was shouting.
“AH. SO, IT IS YOU, COME TO DISTURB MY CHILDREN AGAIN, IS IT? HAVE YOU NOT FELT ENOUGH OF MY TALONS ON YOUR BODY, MONK?”
“We are on the business of the Abbot Ansall, Zaxx…” Feodor was saying through gritted teeth as he stepped back towards the tunnel.
A sudden crashing sound, and I swear that I could even see a hint of gold through the small tunnel walls.
“YOU KNOW THE COMPACT, MONK. THE ABBOT DOESN’T RULE DOWN HERE. THIS IS MY DOMAIN, AND IF I SEE YOU OR ANY OF YOUR LIKE HERE AGAIN WITHOUT MY PERMISSION – THEN I WILL EAT YOU. I WILL EAT ALL OF YOU IN YOUR STONE HOUSE UP THERE.”
There was a sound of rending earth and rocks, and Feodor fought his way through the tunnel as the walls shook and boulders closed off its entrance to the bull dragon’s domain. We waited for the growls of the shaking earth and the dragon’s anger outside to subside before Feodor looked at us all by the glow of the flickering torches.
“I think that the lesson is over for today, students,” he said wearily, looking older than I had ever seen him before.
“Well done, Torvald,” Terrence Aldo sneered at me as we trudged back up through the tunnel to the slopes of the mountain outside. “Now you’ve ruined the chances of anyone else ever riding a dragon,” he said loudly, adding to his gaggle of students that accompanied him everywhere. “The Gypsy probably did it on purpose, you know, so that he wouldn’t have any competition…”
“Shut up, Terrence,” I said, glaring at him u
ntil even the pompous son of the Southern Prince fell silent. Today wasn’t a day that I wanted to get into another pointless argument with him. Not after what I had just seen and heard. Char can do it. She can help people connect with dragons – but how can we do that when Zaxx will rip us all to shreds?
“Neill,” a voice said at my side as we emerged into the first light of day. It was Char, smiling as she jerked her head, directing my attention behind her, to the expression of rapt wonder and pride that spread across Lila Penna’s face. The girl looked lost and entranced, marveling at her own hands – the ones that had touched a dragon.
CHAPTER 7
VERSI’S VOYAGE
I sat on the low stone bench at the back of the Kitchen Gardens. It was just before the dinner bell, which meant it was one of the few times Sigrid, Neill, Lila, Dorf, and I could come together. We younger students had a free watch before the madness of the evening dinner, and so it wasn’t too unusual to see gaggles of us in odd places.
“…The youngest children seemed to be better at picking up a natural affinity for the dragons, and there were many times when I would walk down to the oasis to see children no older than five or ten playing ‘chase’ with dragons just a few months from their shells...” I read aloud from my stolen book, Versi’s Voyage.
“I don’t believe it,” said Sigrid, frowning as she looked over my shoulder at what I had just read.
“I do,” said Lila with a broad smile on her face. She had changed since her encounter a couple of days before with the young blue dragon. She no longer scowled quite as much, and she had even greeted me with a smile when I asked her to come along to our ‘dragon meeting.’
“We have to keep anything we do here a secret, for the moment,” I had impressed upon her, knowing she would likely do anything to return to the crater and to be able to spend time with the blue yearling again. Dragons have a way of getting into your heart, and staying. Our meeting was about one thing: how we were going to get more students to bond with dragons as I had done with Paxala.
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