Dragon Raider

by Ava Richardson

  “Fish!” The thought pushed its way into my mind. I didn’t think the dragon was talking to me, but rather that it was just being careless how it ‘thought-talked.’

  “What does it want?” Lila had crouched into a defensive stance, one hand edging towards her short bow.

  As if that would do any good whatsoever.

  “Come on, Talamand! We must return!” One of the other Sea Dragons was joyously shrieking, as ‘our’ dragon flicked its tail irritably, and swept back to its fellows, heading eastwards.

  “I think it wanted fish…” I looked over to the now smoking fish on the fire. I knew that the Sea Dragons ate fish, and that they clearly enjoyed diving and hunting them through the waves.

  “Do all dragons like fish?” Lila asked pensively.

  “I don’t know,” I replied honestly. “I have never thought to ask them.”

  “Roasted fish.” Lila nodded, gingerly picking up our breakfast and juggling the fish between her hands before laying them on a broad pad of leaves. “The dragons have their own fire, right? Well – I bet that is hard to control, compared to delicate human hands, and small human cookfires and stoves.” She nodded, picking up the plate of leaves and disappearing up the beach with them.

  “Hey! That’s breakfast!” I shouted after her.

  “It is. But not for us!” she said with a laugh. “If you want some more, you’ll have to catch it yourself!” Lila walked up the beach to where the rockier upland began, and I saw her pick her way across the boulders and past the scrubby trees until she could ascend the Bonerock spire.

  “Did she like it?” I asked my companion when she made her way back down again, hands empty of fish or plate.

  “She wouldn’t come out to try, but I heard a low grumble when I reached the cave, so I just put the food down outside and backed away,” Lila said, a small frown before shrugging.

  “You’re lucky she didn’t eat you after last night,” I pointed out.

  “No, I think that we’re onto a good idea. Dragons like fish, right? And what’s better than roasted fish? If only we had a bit of olive oil and seasoning.” She sighed, crouching down to where I was already cooking the one large sea-trout that I had caught.

  “That is a good catch,” she said with a wry smile. “We’ll make a Raider out of you yet.”

  “And I’ll make a princess out of you,” I countered, earning a frown, and the time of smiles was over.

  “I don’t want to be a queen, you know.” Her voice was heavy and awkward, as if she were admitting to stealing a last bit of cake.

  “I know that, but that already makes you pretty a good candidate,” I pointed out.

  “Roskilde is my sworn enemy,” Lila said exasperatedly as I flipped the slab of trout over.

  I remembered what Adair had showed me on the deck of the Ariel. All of the different races and nationalities, all of the different beginnings that people had. “Think of the Western Archipelago as a family, Lila,” I said. “We all share the same waters, we all fish for food, we all trade. A big storm that comes through is likely to hit most of us as any…” I said. Everyone on a ship was a family, I remembered the young pirate saying.

  “But my family doesn’t try to kill me, and blow me out of the water!” Lila almost laughed. Almost, for her humor was tinged with sadness and worry.

  “You should read some of the histories that I’ve read where it’s usually the family who are trying to kill each other,” I muttered. “But anyway. Families don’t have to like each other. They don’t even have to get on. But they’re all connected. Just think about that for a moment,” I said. “If the Western Isles could work together, could help each other, could stop fighting each other – then just imagine what we could achieve!”

  “But Roskilde wants all of the Sea Raiders wiped out,” Lila said.

  “No, Havick wants that. Remember, half of your own crew comes from Roskilde, even probably have family still up there?”

  Lila nodded and fell silent. It was true, and at last I thought I might have hit upon a crack in her armor. After all, she had been found during a raid, and during that raid her parents had died. How many of her crew members didn’t want to raid the Roskildean or island villages where they might have uncles, nephews, or nieces?

  I was about to point this out to her, when another shadow crossed the island, this one immense. We looked up to see the wings of a Great White dragon flaring over us, majestically moving around the atoll to descend to the far side of the island.

  “A White dragon?” I stood up in awe. They were the largest of the dragons. Truly immense in scale, and could probably destroy entire towns alone.

  “Saffron’s den had a White dragon as their mother,” Lila said breathlessly. “It was Saffron’s closest friend other than her dragon.”

  “She died.” I didn’t want to break the girl’s heart, but she had to know…

  “I know. Everyone knows that story, adept.” Lila frowned at me. “But she was the only White to live out here in the wilds, unless another one does now.”

  The chances of seeing four dragons in the same place, one after the other, was slim indeed. No, not slim, I thought. Absolutely unheard of. “What are they doing here?” I muttered.

  We didn’t see anything of the White as we practiced and rehearsed Lila’s ‘greeting the dragons’ but the next set of dragons to arrive was a duo of Sea Dragons, flying low over the waves and landing on the far side of the island.

  “This is too much of a coincidence,” Lila said, keeping an eye on the boat. I could see her judging how long it would take her to get it out to sea in case any of the dragons decided to attack. Too long, I think the answer was clear, especially when another Sinuous Blue arrived, and shortly afterwards, two Stocky Greens.

  “What do we do?” Lila asked me.

  “I don’t know! I’ve never been invited to a conference of dragons!” I pointed out, half in awe, and half in terror.

  “But we have been invited to a hatching,” Lila said. “And I’m guessing that’s what all these dragons are here for too.”

  She was right, it had to be the only answer, I thought as a flight of the smaller Messenger dragons, some only as big as a forearm, swirled and chattered over the atoll before landing on the rocks. Then came another Sinuous Blue, two more Greens, and a flight of Vicious Oranges. More dragons arrived from every corner of the canvas, until the sky was filled with the sound of their shrieks and calls.

  “Skreayach!”

  “A new one!”

  “Sym is having newts!”

  Their voices were too much for my dragon sense, and so I had to use the restricting meditations that Afar had taught me, imagining a wall around my mind with windows that I could open when I needed to hear what the dragons were saying. Dragon-thought was like being filled with a rush of poetry and emotion all at the same time, because dragons do not think in the way that humans do. They do not have separate thoughts, words, and memories. Instead, their feelings are their thoughts, and their memories are their feelings. To have such a loud cacophony of dragoness, even if it is overwhelmingly joyful and happy, was too much for small human senses.

  “You are right, Lila, they have come for the hatching,” I gasped, as the day slid towards evening, and the sun started to lower itself towards the Western Seas.

  Evening. When the dragon Sym had predicted that the eggs would hatch.

  The early evening airs were alive with screeches and whistles, peeps and roars. The dragons occasionally snapped at each other if one settled too close, or stood on another’s tail but I was amazed at how peaceable they were. As the sun burnt the sea, and the sky turned orange-pink, a loud, mournful howl started from Sym’s cave and was taken up from the dragons.

  It seemed to last for ages, a long, wavering note that seemed mournful and defiant at the same time, finally holding a clear, sonorous tone that seemed to echo over the waters – before silence.

  All of the dragons around us in the gathering gloom, their eyes
bright and the last of the sun glinting from their scales, eerily raised their heads at the exact same time to look expectant at the cave.

  “Can you feel it?” Lila asked me, the whites of her teeth showing as she grinned at me, excited.

  I could, I nodded. It was like waking up on a spring morning after a long winter, when something in the air that promised more of everything, even though you didn’t know what it could be. More light, more warmth, more life. “Yes. The eggs have hatched.”

  Chapter 13

  Lila, and the hatching

  As the last notes of the dying sun faded, the sky came alive with stars over our heads. The dragons had quieted, expectant, and I held my breath.

  “Skrip?”

  “Skree-ip!”

  There were cooing chirrups and the soft sounds of the mother dragon coming closer to the beach, toward us.

  “Now’s our chance,” I whispered to Danu, standing up to walk towards the noise. I tried to remember the words I had composed to greet them. ‘Oh, noble dragons, born of fire and wind…’ I tried, before a spike of worry. Should I re-introduce myself to the mother dragon first? Shouldn’t I ask her, formally, once again, if her hatchlings will bond with me? Danu, it seemed, didn’t know the etiquette required to greet new baby dragons – and neither did I.

  So much for all his training at mage-school, or whatever they call it, I thought with a heavy huff as I chose a spot that seemed to be right in the path of the encroaching dragons.

  “Hsss!” A slithering hiss came from the rocks further up the beach, and I saw that the massive White dragon had pulled itself to the edge, looking first at me, and then out into the darkness. An answering rasp of a croak, and on the far side there emerged a Stocky Green, and another, then a Sinuous Blue.

  All of the dragons were congregating on the beach, I realized. To watch what happens next.

  There was a whooshing sensation of wind above me, as a large shape swept across the beach to land on the island, visible in the stars and the dying embers of our fire. A Red. A fantastic-sized, Crimson Red.

  “Skreyar!” It crowed a joyous greeting at the others, and they hissed and chirruped, as if welcoming it. I had never seen a Crimson Red dragon. They were broad of limb and strong of body, larger than the Stocky Greens, not as long as the Sinuous Blues. This one seemed tired as its wings drooped; it was clear that it had flown a long way.

  A series of whistles and chirrups emerged from the darkness, as the hatchlings emerged. All of the eggs had hatched, and hatched well. Each dragonet the size of a large dog, they tottered, tentative at first, into the soft light snuffing and pawing at the soft sand.

  I gasped. They were beautiful, one a sea-turquoise green, one a long blue, and the third a yellowing-orange, all with short, stubby tails, large, staring eyes, and snouts that ended in a dull point – an egg tooth?

  The turquoise one made a long, mewling peep into the night, and suddenly all of the assembled dragons were cooing and chirruping at it. Even surrounded by these giant, deadly beasts, I did not feel any threat from them. The dragons appeared to be encouraging, singing to the younglings.

  “Human.” A voice rang in my head, and I looked up, surprised to see that the darkness above the beach head had now morphed into the proud head of the mother Blue. She was standing a little behind and over her creations, daring me to greet them too.

  Just looking at them, I felt that my heart would burst. “Little friends!” I called out to them, earning a curious look from the sea-green and turquoise one (the noisy one, I thought proudly). “Look at you! Look how strong you are!” I said, all of my previous words and poetry forgotten as I reveled in their stubby limbs, their shining scales, their sharp little fangs, perfectly white.

  “Meeeep!” The sea-green and turquoise took a few hesitant steps down the beach, looked back at its siblings, and then charged towards me.

  Yes! I had done it! I had done it! I went down on one knee as hot tears of gratitude spilled down my cheeks— only for the little Sea Dragon to race past me, and launch itself to attack the receding surf.

  “My friend?” I said a little uncertainly. “I am Lila. Lila of Malata, I would like to be your friend...”

  The baby dragon completely ignored me. Well, there are still two more, I thought, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I turned to the other two hatchlings.

  “Noble dragons! Borne of fire and wind...” I began, as the small blue took one look at me and raced back up under the pillars of its mother’s legs.

  “What adventure I can offer you…” I said to the last remaining yellow-orange dragon, who hissed at me, revealing its sharp fangs, before immediately jumping past me, scampering up the rocks to swipe at the snout of the Crimson Red, who playfully bared its own fangs, before nudging it with a nose back down into the soft sand.

  “I come bearing gifts…” My voice trailed off, as each of the three baby hatchlings resolutely ignored me.

  “You have your answer, Lila of Malata.” The words of the mother Blue rang in my head like a struck bell.

  I had failed. None of the dragons wanted anything to do with me at all.

  “How could this be? But… But I did everything right?” I said, trying to sound indignant to Danu, although my voice wavered and I feared I might suddenly break into sobs. Danu had called me back to the embers of the fire, his face aglow with excitement as he watched the hatchlings and the other dragons recede up the beach.

  “But Lila, there isn’t a right way to do this. No one else has ever attempted it, as far as I know…” Danu was whispering, trying to cheer me up. He was just happy to be in the presence of the dragons, I saw, and could hardly stop his fool grin from spreading over his face.

  But he doesn’t know just what is at stake… I kicked the sand with my feet. My father had vouched for me with the rest of the crew. The crew had placed their trust in me to provide them with a future. I was trying to save them, and their way of life – but I had failed. I wasn’t good enough for the dragons, or dragons didn’t want anything to do with us humans any more.

  “What do I do now?” I said to myself, but it was Danu who answered.

  “You reclaim the throne, Lila! Don’t you see–this must be the prophecy, coming to fruition! You couldn’t deny it, just as much as I had to see you rising from those waters, that day! You were meant to unite the peoples of the Western Isles, for good!” He was bursting with pride.

  “You’re only saying that because it’s something you want,” I snapped. I didn’t want to be anyone’s queen. I didn’t want to give up my dreams of flying dragons, just like Saffron of Zenema did.

  And I didn’t want to see the look on my father’s face when I returned with nothing to show for my efforts.

  “No, it’s not just that,” Danu argued, but I groaned and turned away from him.

  “Enough for one night, Danu. I’ve failed at the only thing that I’ve ever really wanted to do with my life. Let me have one night’s sleep, at least, before I have to decide what to do next.”

  The fish-boy, much to my surprise, obeyed my wishes and kept his own counsel. I tugged the blankets over me and curled up into a ball, even though I didn’t feel cold in these warm waters. The joyous chirrups and calls of the dragons followed me to my dreams, where I was forever stuck in a room, and unable to get out to be with them.

  “Lila.”

  The voice spoke into my dreams, and I tried to push it away. Don’t wake me up yet, Danu, I thought groggily. I knew that it must be getting late, and even though I had a terrible night of nightmares and anxiety dreams, I felt so crushed and defeated that I didn’t want to face my life just now.

  What was I to tell Father? Mother? The crew?

  “Lila, wave-rider,” the voice repeated, and I realized this voice wasn’t Danu.

  I was still sleepy, even though my body was warm with the early sun, but I could tell that the voice wasn’t a human one. It was inside my head, for starters.

  A dragon. I froze, awake no
w and with my heart hammering in my chest. There was the sound of crunching sand from somewhere nearby. Somewhere very nearby. Had I offended them by spending the night here on the beach? Had the mother Blue wanted me to leave then and there when her new-hatched dragons had rejected me so profoundly? I had no way of knowing what was the correct thing to do.

  Maybe now she will eat me, I thought miserably. What a fitting end to a very short tale. ‘Stupid dragon-girl fantasizes about dragons and then gets eaten by one’ sounded like just the sort of tale that Captain Lasarn or Sam or Kal would spend many years spinning. Just not in front of my father, probably.

  Well, I wasn’t going to get eaten without a fight. But where was my knife? My bow?

  Packed into the boat, because Danu said that it would be ‘very bad form’ for me to suddenly walk around the newly hatched dragons with weapons bared. Not that he knew anything about dragons, I decided.

  “Lila wave-rider, arise!” The voice sounded in my head once again. It was undoubtedly draconian, I thought. But I can’t hear dragons, I thought. Only this one, I could! There was a sensation of size to that voice, the way that my father had a booming voice even when he was talking normally. And there was a feeling of soot and claws and strength behind it as well. Definitely a dragon.

  Tensing my muscles, I waited for the crunch of sand to begin once more, letting the dragon get as close as I dared. I felt a wave of hot, sooty breath wash over me as I moved. The dragons of this island had already shown they didn’t want to bond with me. It was only a matter of time before one of them decided to try and eat me. Lasarn and the others had been right. I am the girl dreaming of dragons who ends up getting eaten.

  Only I wouldn’t be.

  I rolled. Hand grabbing the sand and turning, flinging it into the air meaning to blind the beast—

  “Skreyar!” The roar of the dragon standing over me was deafening as it hopped lightly back, shaking its snout with a sneeze. I froze at the size of the beast. It was almost as large as a Crimson Red, much smaller than the mother Blue – and it was multi-colored. It had deep black scales along the ridge of its back, turning a delicate midnight blue, purple, and plum color in blotchy stripes towards its middle, where a line of turquoise green rippled along the edge of a paler creamy underbelly. I had never seen a multi-colored dragon, before, and it looked at me with shining, gold-green eyes.