You will see the sun again soon, he replied. We shall reclaim the surface land which is rightfully ours.
I look forward to that day, she replied, fixing him with a blissful gaze.
He cocked his head. What makes you smile like that?
Her mouth broadened into a toothy smile. I have good news, Damir. It is the news you have longed to hear since the day of our mating pledge.
He sprang to his feet. Truly? You feel the eggs of our first clutch growing inside you?
She nodded her head. I do.
Damir’s smile nearly lit the darkened cave, and Eirene wondered if that glow meant they’d never use the torches in their nest ever again.
* * *
One year later.
Damir’s claws clutched the soil of the tunnel more tightly than usual, helping him move along at a faster pace than generally accepted. Friends and colleagues smiled, understanding the likely cause of the urgency, while strangers and foes scowled at the impolite behavior. He’d completed his latest shift with the Guard, gleefully slaying another pair of icers. But his thoughts remained with Eirene. Her primary gestation period should end this day, meaning that she’d deliver from her body the eggs with their future children inside. Within two weeks, those young dragons would crack open the deep red shells mottled with brown spots, and friends would comment about how their coloring more closely matched one parent or the other. The thought spurred him to an even greater, more reckless speed as he moved through one spur after another in the pursuit of their shared nest.
He wanted to touch the shells, to put his physical imprint there, to let his children sense his presence. He heard and felt the small rumbles behind him, generated by two close friends and members of the Guard, who’d insisted upon joining him to offer their congratulations to Eirene as she prepared for two weeks of nest-sitting with her eggs.
Damir reached the isolated nest he shared with Eirene, a small, cozy cave above the major nesting and communal areas. Wait here, he told his friends. I’ll first ensure that visitors are welcome.
Damir moved through the mouth into the darkened cave. Eirene?
He heard her scurrying. Stay away, Damir. It’s… it’s best you stay away.
Why are the torches extinguished, Eirene? He felt a small sliver of panic. Why did you not relight them?
Go away, Damir. Her tone was fearful, pleading. Please. You must trust me on this.
His panic grew. No, Eirene. You are my pledged mate. Whatever troubles you is my burden to share.
He blew a small bit of flame, helping him locate the torches lining the walls in the nest they called home. He caught sight of the first torch with the brief burst of light, but also saw Eirene’s panicked face. He blew forth his flame, lighting the torch, and used the growing light to bring flame to each additional torch.
He finally turned toward Eirene. Her face remained taut with fear, with worry, with apprehension. Had something gone wrong? Had the eggs not yet arrived? He had heard horror stories of delivered eggs that were misshapen and deformed, the young dragons inside dead before ever breathing their first bit of air. Had such an evil befallen them? Were Eirene’s words of warning her effort to spare him a grief she’d already felt?
He caught a glimpse of a shell sheltered and warmed by her body. He saw just the top, and saw in that sliver of egg shell Eirene’s deep red coloring. He could not see the rest, though. Eirene? What’s wrong? I want to see the eggs. I want to see our children.
Please leave, Damir.
He felt the anger rise. Move, Eirene. What are you hiding from me?
Her eyes rested upon him, somber, sad, as if she’d rather not answer that question. But at long last, resigned to the inevitable, she rose to her feet and stepped aside, revealing what she’d rested upon.
Damir glanced at the sight, and felt the color drain from his scales. The sight horrified him to his core. He stared at his mate, horrified. No. Eirene. How can this be?
I’m so sorry, Damir. I… I don’t know what happened. I…
But Damir knew, knew exactly the meaning of the sight before him. He moved to the mouth of the cave and spoke to his long-time friend, Cort. Go and fetch Cato immediately. Makoto, remain here until Cato arrives. We will need his advice and judgment here.
Cort stared at his leader. He’d expected a jubilant emergence and an invitation inside to offer his congratulations to the mother-to-be. Instead, Damir looked traumatized. Damir? What’s wrong? Why do we need Cato’s assistance? Why do you send me away, rather than inviting me inside? I have not come to run errands, but to see the eggs of your first clutch!
Damir shook his head. You do not want to see, Cort. Please. Trust me on this. I only wish I could un-see what has already scarred my eyes.
* * *
The ancient dragon arrived, preceded by the messenger Cort. The younger dragon stepped aside, and Cato moved into the nesting area. His eyes took in everything in an instant, and it took a mere moment before he expressed his reaction and initial thoughts through his eyes. He gazed upon Damir with sympathy and frowned at Eirene. He turned his attention to the Guard leader. Bring Cort and Makoto in, Damir. They know something has happened. We must… educate them.
Educate them? There is no education required here, Cato. The evidence is plain.
Cato turned his gaze upon the younger dragon. Is that evidence what you’d like explained to the rest of our kind?
Damir paused. You’re right, Cato. I understand. This… this is not something I’d like publicized.
Cato nodded, his eyes once more sympathetic.
Cort and Makoto joined them. Their telepathic gasps filled the nesting area as they looked upon the egg there before turning withering gazes upon Eirene.
Cato spoke, projecting his thoughts to all present in the nest. The mating bond is our strongest, deepest tradition. It must be an oath inviolable by anyone. Infidelity cannot be tolerated. Our offspring, through the coloring of the eggs in which they grow before final hatching, provide us with irrefutable evidence of such violations. His eyes filled with sadness. That is the unfortunate case here.
He glanced at the egg, the egg colored with the deep red of Eirene the mother. But Damir’s deep brown color, which one expected to find in the spots mottling the egg’s surface, was nowhere to be found.
Instead, thin streaks of a nearly transparent silver marred the shell.
I urge you, Cort, and you, Makoto, to avoid any public recounting of the evidence and conversation here. I have brought you into the nesting area so that the two of you, and only the two of you, may understand the true nature of the grief Damir will endure for some time to come. Let me repeat and implore you: do not speak to others of what you’ve witnessed here today. Is that clear?
The younger dragons nodded, delivering looks of deepest sympathy to the leader once more.
Cato nodded before continuing. The punishment for this heinous crime will effectively hide for all eternity the evidence of that crime, but our memories are eternal. You must each listen carefully, and that includes you, Damir.
The brown dragon blinked before recognizing Cato’s words and nodding his assent.
Cato resumed. Our story is this. In the final days before laying the eggs of her first clutch, Eirene, fearful for the safety of her future children after hearing about the horrors on the surface and the threat posed by the ice dragons, decided to take action into her own claws. She decided that she must fight, just like her mate Damir. She found a hidden tunnel near her nest, one unused for centuries, and followed that tunnel to the surface. She emerged and looked for ice dragons, feeling a deep need to spill their blood as a means of protecting those future children. Sadly, she got her wish. She found icers, a dozen of them, and though she fought gallantly, they killed her and crushed the eggs she carried. Damir, puzzled at finding his nest empty rather than finding a nesting Eirene, searched for her. He found her trail and arrived at the surface just as the fatal blow fell upon his beloved. Enraged, he destroyed tho
se who’d murdered his mate.
Cato paused. This story will strengthen your position among our kind, Damir. The loss of your mate and her clutch of eggs represent the deepest and most personal of all potential losses. The fact that those came at the claws of the icers will further fuel your rage at our eternal enemies, and will hasten your desire to wage direct warfare for control of the surface. Your ability to destroy a dozen icers without assistance will prove you an even greater leader than previously believed, and provide hope that we can overcome any odds or obstacles in our fight. Cato faced Cort and Makoto. The story of Eirene’s demise makes her a martyr to that cause, rather than one caught in violation of our most sacred oath, and thus precludes any shame others may direct at her mate.
Damir’s face made clear he’d listened to little of Cato’s speech. Instead, her turned and faced Eirene. Why? Who? When?
Eirene said nothing.
Damir moved closer. I must know, Eirene. Infidelity is not an individual act. One of my brethren, one who knew of our mating bond, has dishonored me. I will have his name, Eirene. And then I will have my vengeance.
But she remained silent, meeting his fiery gaze with cool determination.
Cato moved between them. We will uncover the identity of the father in due course, Damir. For now, though, we must carry out Eirene’s sentence. Makoto, if you will, fetch and carry the egg in question. Follow me, all of you. Damir, I suggest you follow Eirene to ensure that she moves to our destination and makes no effort to escape her punishment.
Eirene’s eyes flicked toward Cato, as if she wanted to ask the nature of the punishment. Instead, she remained silent.
They emerged from the nest, with somber faces and awkward telepathic silence. Cato led the way, followed by Eirene, Makoto, Damir, and Cort. The ancient dragon proved portions of his story true, clawing through a thin wall hiding an old tunnel long abandoned. He lit torches as they moved, slowly, silently, and obviously upward. It took an hour, but the caravan finally reached the cave at the tunnel’s termination point. The bright sunlight of the surface lit the cave, and the silvery streaks marring the otherwise perfect egg glowed, taunting all of them, making clear the crime committed here. A lake, one of similar size and coloring and surrounding vegetation as the one Eirene had visited with group just over a year before, rippled in the light breeze outside. The poison water shimmered in the sunlight, frightening each of them in turn. The nearest edge of the lake stood a mere dozen yards from where they gathered. Eirene’s eyes surveyed the surface—the water, the blue sky, the greenery—with something approaching reverence.
Makoto set the egg before Cato.
Eirene! Cato’s projected thought gathered the attention of the assembled fire dragons. I find you guilty of violating the sacred oath of the mating ceremony, producing from an illicit and unauthorized union an egg bearing the mark of your fellow conspirator. That egg, the evidence and memory of your crime, is evil. It must therefore suffer its own ultimate punishment.
With a speed that seemed impossible, the ancient dragon brushed the back side of his foreclaw against the egg, sending it hurtling out of the cave and through the air. The egg landed in the lake full of rippling, poisonous water.
The egg slowly began sinking below the water’s surface.
No! Eirene’s mental scream of anguish cut through all of them, her grief at the loss of her only surviving egg a staggering emotional blow. She burst from the cave and raced to the edge of the lake, stopping as near the water as she dared, trying, in vain, to stretch one claw out far enough to scoop her egg, her child, from its slow death.
Cato moved to the mouth of the cave. Our kind cannot tolerate those who violate their oaths. Your punishment for this crime, Eirene, is banishment. You are hereby forbidden to return to the underground world of the fire dragons. Your survival will depend solely upon your wit, your cunning, and your resourcefulness… and, perhaps, your ability to integrate into the world of the icers. Let me be quite clear. Should word reach me that you have returned—after your reported death, mind you—then I will personally carry out the death sentence.
Eirene seemed not to hear, so deep was her grief. The top of the egg, the last part visible, slipped beneath the surface of the lake. Eirene lay down in the long grass surrounding the shore, her despair so deep it seemed she’d never move from the spot, waiting until death in some form claimed her.
The dragons in the cave stood there for a moment before Cato spoke. Cort, Makoto, you are dismissed. I have matters of importance to discuss with Damir.
Still stunned at the events of the day, the Guard dragons turned and moved down the tunnel. Cort glanced over his shoulder, as if trying to read Damir’s emotion, but the leader of the Guard betrayed nothing.
Cato and Damir stood in silence for several minutes.
Damir finally spoke. She didn’t violate her mating oath, Cato. Did she?
She did not, Damir. The old dragon sighed. If she’d succeeded in keeping you away until after the hatching, we might never have found ourselves trying to deal with the obvious merging of her blood with one carrying the blood of the icers.
Damir paused. She tried to send me away, Cato. But I refused to heed her wishes. This, including my mate’s banishment, is my fault.
It is not your fault, Damir. You had no idea that this would happen, and acted as any dragon would act in your apparent circumstances. Alas, once you’d viewed the evidence, prudence required action on both your part and mine. I could not expose you, Damir. You are far too important to the future of our kind. Nor would I expose Eirene to the mobs who’d seek her out and attempt to inflict upon her whatever punishment they might consider appropriate. That is why I had to choose banishment.
The old dragon paused. There is another reason. You had two witnesses who knew you were distressed by the sight of the egg, and they would, without any malicious intent, allow that news to reach the masses. In bringing them in as your inner circle on this matter, we’ve helped mitigate their potential desire to speak to those outside that inner circle. With Eirene vanished, they will soon forget or never realize that the egg’s coloring was impossible in the mating of two purebred fire dragons. Cato paused. Your secret, though, would remain better hidden if you avoided leaping in an effort to catch your prey. Fire dragons are creatures of the land. We do not jump.
Damir nodded once. He and Cato alone knew that his mother had been an ice dragon. Cato had rescued the discarded egg, left as a meal for the wild predators of the surface, and ensured that the newborn Damir had a home in an area set aside for the children of dragons killed before those children reached adulthood. He knew Cato manipulated events so his actual father had “adopted” the “orphan” Damir.
When the child reached physical maturity, Cato took him aside and revealed the truth of his origins. Damir learned through the story the importance of hiding his mixed parentage, while at the same time developing a raging hatred toward the species that rendered his mother unfit, who left an unhatched egg behind as a sacrifice to the larger predators of the surface.
Damir thought his secret permanently hidden. His own egg bore the marks of his paternal grandparents, both fire breathers, and thus masked the identity of his mother. He grew like any other fire child, eventually moving into the ranks of the Guard. He’d almost forgotten his unfortunate beginnings over the long intervening years until he’d seen the transparent coloring of icer blood in the egg. He knew he had to act, and brought in the ancient dragon for advice to ensure they enacted the best decision.
It meant he’d risked an unfortunate decision, and unfortunately the odds weren’t working in his favor. He’d made peace with Cato’s judgment, whatever it might be. He puffed a fiery sigh. I will miss her, Cato. She was… perfect.
Cato smiled faintly. She will live, Damir. Let me remind of something critical: you know how to get here, and there’s nothing to prevent you from establishing meeting dates and times. You may eventually feel pressure to take a mate not banished from our
world for the sake of appearance, but I will publicly encourage a patient decision on that point. He nodded. She remains in possession of her personality, appearance, and, memories. She has always remained loyal to both the letter and spirit of the mating oath. There is no reason to consider that oath broken now. I suggest you go spend quality time with your mate.
Cato turned and left, leaving a stunned, trembling Damir behind at the mouth of the cave, trying to understand the gift given him. A moment later, the projected words reached the old dragon. Thank you, Cato.
Cato shuffled down the tunnel toward his own nest. Damir and Eirene were by no means the first half-breeds—a mix of fire and icer blood—living among them. But they’d produced a problem he’d not yet experienced: a half-breed with egg coloring suggesting the eventual outward appearance of an icer. He’d no way of knowing if there were half-breeds living among the icers. But this child? This child, once hatched from the natural icer hatching zone in the water, would live among those who appeared to be his kind. Cato could use him, teaching the child leadership and persuasive projection techniques that would move him up the ranks like his father Damir.
He thought of the others, and he thought of the half-breed he’d only discovered this day.
Eirene.
She’d recognized the message of the egg’s coloring and sought Cato out for guidance. He’d advised her to keep Damir away; if only Eirene and Cato knew, this dragon might pass through a similar upbringing as his father Damir. But she’d failed, unable to keep the truth from her mate when a lie would serve both far better. Eirene confessed to Cato the story of her second trip to the surface, of her meeting and long conversation with the ice dragon, a meeting in which they’d done nothing but talk in violation of all rules of nature. Her resistance levels toward attacking all icers, her overpowering attraction to the ice dragon form, meant that she, too, was a half-breed, one Cato himself hadn’t previously identified. When he’d made that connection, he realized that Eirene’s nesting efforts were preventing a very icer child from full growth. The egg needed hydration. In batting the egg into the lake, he’d enacted in the eyes of Cort and Makoto a harsh penalty, one they’d recognized as in their future if they talked.
The Dragon Chronicles Page 12