by Marc Secchia
He blinked.
“Besides, you have Shimmerith and three beautiful eggs to live for. What are you thinking?”
There was an awful, unending silence.
With a spasm, his paws went limp. Pip suddenly became aware of a great number of Dragons and Dragon Riders surrounding them. They perched on the crumbled walls, covered a building in living hide, soared overhead, and even a couple of hatchlings peeked through a doorway.
Pip knew she had to speak.
“This is a war no strength of paw can win!” Her shout drew murmurs of approval and alarm. “My friends and Dragon-kin, all of you have seen how the Silver Dragon herded his minions like helpless sheep. He has great cunning and guile. The one he serves is greater still. Evil stalks our Island-World. Now is the time for all of us to join together to fight this Shadow Dragon and his creatures. If the Dragons die, our Human friends die. They will be enslaved, just as I once was.”
Inwardly, she was appalled at the raw passion and pain her words exposed.
Her ears buzzed as she turned to Emblazon. More quietly, she said, “Lives will be sacrificed. Already, many friends wing to the stars. But I, the smallest of Dragons, tell you this day, that to stand against this foe we need Dragons of great heart.”
She laid her muzzle against Emblazon’s neck.
Around her, the Humans cheered and shouted and Dragons thundered their defiance until the dawn rang to their ferocious chorus.
Pip murmured, “Rise, my friend. And if you ever do this to me again, I swear I will give you a smile to match Shimmerith’s.”
Emblazon convulsed with laughter.
* * * *
Throughout the morning, Dragonships arrived to evacuate the small Dragon Rider School at Ya’arriol Island. The monks of a warrior centre nearby chose to join the evacuation to Jeradia, along with several Dragonship loads of precious eggs and hatchlings too young to fly far. They moved out in the early afternoon, bound for Xinidia Island, twenty Dragonships accompanied by a heavy escort of Dragons. After Xinidia, a longer flight would lead to Erigar Island, before swinging almost directly south to join the ridge, often called Spine Island, which Zardon and Pip had followed down to Jeradia Island.
Directly after they left, Kassik called Pip over. “Our youngsters are anxious to fly, but we won’t be ready until evening. Why don’t you show them the Natal Cave?”
He had a delicate way of phrasing an order as a request, Pip thought. “Certainly, mighty Kassik.”
“What does that mean?” Smoke puffed out of his nostrils. His eyes filled with swirling orange fire-trails.
“I shall round them up at once.”
“Oh, is that how it is?” Kassik aimed a playful nip at her haunches. “Be off with you, troublemaker.”
“Hey,” complained Casitha, marching around to wag a finger up at the Brown Dragon. “No flirting with the students, Kassik.”
“Mmm, I’d rather flirt with you,” he rumbled.
To Pip’s interest, spots of colour blossomed in Casitha’s tan cheeks. “Rule-breaker,” she protested, rather weakly, pushing ineffectually at his muzzle, which was taller than her. “Get off, you’re embarrassing me.”
“Why don’t you fly with Pip?” said Kassik. “I need to start roaring at these stragglers. You’ll just whine at me for being too tough on them.” Casitha gave her Dragon an uncertain look. “You’re still mine,” he growled, snorting fire ten feet above her head. “Don’t think you can escape so easily from a Dragon, my pretty petal. I’ve devious and diverting plans for you.”
“Kassik!”
Pip nearly cried with laughter at her friend’s high-pitched squeal.
“Wretched Dragons,” muttered Casitha, turning her back on him. She stalked over to Pip and slapped her friend on the flank. “What’re you snickering at, Pipsqueak?”
Having rounded up her friends, apart from the injured Jyoss, who was having her wing treated, the Pygmy Dragon led them over the thickly forested cap of Ha’athior Island. She bore Casitha on her back. They both jumped as Duri and Kaiatha whizzed past them on Tazzaral, hotly pursued by Arrabon and Emmaraz.
“Slow-slugs,” Maylin called in passing.
If she were honest, Pip was not looking forward to re-entering the cave where she had been captured by the Silver Dragon. Silver–ha! He had not even dared utter his real name. She should pick up that collar. What had he called it? Some strange word … ‘Lavanias’. She shivered. Collared like an animal. It was not her worst nightmare any more, but it rated a close second.
“Pip? Something wrong?” Casitha touched her neck.
She explained about the collar and how it echoed her past. Even now, she remembered that first journey by Dragonship. She could not even look at a Dragonship without picturing cold metal bars closing around her.
“You’re stronger than you think,” her friend said, as they entered the cave.
She wished. She would rather be loved.
Did she think romantic love was all that mattered in the world? Pip sighed. So far, only the Silver Dragon and Nak had even looked remotely interested. Neither was exactly appropriate. She wished she were a little … more. Not just little.
“We can ask the scholars about that word–Lavanias,” said Casitha. “You might not know, but Master Kassik has every scholar in Fra’anior Cluster digging for Dragon lore on the First Eggs, floating Islands, the Shadow Dragon, Dragon mind powers–anything that could possibly help us. There’s not much so far, but they’ve only had half a day.”
“Did the scouts find anything?”
“Not a stray scale,” said Casitha. “You killed him.”
“We can hope,” said Pip.
But her heart was not in her comment. She sensed Casitha knew that, too.
The Dragons slowed in awe as they entered the main cavern. Pip wafted on down to where she had struggled with the Silver Shapeshifter beneath the central gem. There was something about this place. A glutinous sense of magic, thick in the air. A presence, or purpose, that pervaded the walls and floor and crystals all around them–aside from the dazzling beauty. Here, it was easy to believe the legends.
Casitha and the other Riders dismounted.
She scratched pensively at the bits of rope with her claws. Where was he, now? That bright, cruel young man? She could not ask the question hidden deep in her hearts–how did the other Dragons know who their Rider was meant to be? What did it feel like? Was it anything similar to how she had felt, that moment she first saw him? And what a cruel truth it might prove.
Casitha called, “Found the collar, Pip.”
Maylin looked from the ropes to her, and with a flip of her glossy black hair, asked, “What exactly happened in here with the Silver Dragon, Pip?”
“We need to know the details,” said Yaethi.
“Aha,” said Kaiatha. “I know. He’s a Shapeshifter. How else could he tie you up with rope?”
“Tie her up … naked,” Maylin put in, with a snigger that Pip would dearly have loved to slap into the Cloudlands. She shuffled her paws awkwardly.
Tazzaral managed to make his whisper boom in the cave. “What’s so special about that? Hide is hide.”
“Not for Humans,” explained Yaethi. “We wear clothing. What’s underneath is taboo.”
“Certain parts,” Duri clarified. He and Kaiatha both looked at their feet, blushing. “Anyway, Pip, why don’t you tell us–”
“Every last detail,” Maylin chortled. “This is going to be–hey! Pip. Put me down. Pip!”
Pip pretended to hold Maylin in one paw and spank her with the other, while Emmaraz looked on in faint alarm.
After that, she told her tale. At several points in the retelling, Durithion coughed and turned pink and purple. His girlfriend slapped him on the back.
“Soo …” drawled Maylin, at last. “He’s that cute, and you smashed the stuffing out of him?”
“He’s not so cute when he’s trying to mastermind the killing of my friends,” Pip blazed–literall
y. Maylin ducked her flame smartly.
Emmaraz thundered a challenge, springing at Pip. Gentle Arrabon stepped lithely in the way, forcing the larger Red Dragon to pull his blow. Pip apologised, while Emmaraz grumbled and his fires fulminated wrathfully.
“Calm down, everyone,” the Green Dragon said, mildly. “Pip showed where her loyalties lie, striking the Silver Dragon a mortal blow. I applaud her actions. Now, I ask myself, ‘What can we learn from this?’ One conclusion is that they know you are the key, Pip. This was a trap prepared specifically for a Pygmy Dragon, to remove the Word of Command from the equation.”
Yaethi nodded. “Good, my Dragon-heart. In other words, they fear our Pip. That gives me hope.”
“If this Shadow Dragon cannot feed, does it die?” asked Emmaraz.
Arrabon gulped, “Would that be when it’s finished off every Dragon in the Island-World?”
“Zardon’s vision of the floating Island suggested many hundreds of Dragons were being taken there to be sacrificed to the beast,” said Kaiatha, shivering visibly. “Do you think they’ve already destroyed all the Dragons in Herimor?”
Neither was a thought anyone wanted to hear spoken aloud.
Casitha added, “There’s one more thing. The Silver Dragon didn’t kill Pip. He wanted to capture her. That means they must want her alive.”
“This Marshal lacks something,” said Tazzaral. “Does he want to break into the First Egg? Or hatch it? What more could he need than the means and the ability to destroy the world? Which he already has. Needless to say, we must protect the Onyx Dragon.”
Pip scowled at being referred to in such an impersonal way. Not all Dragons were comfortable with her Shapeshifter nature, and Tazzaral appeared to be one of those. Ha. Ralti sheep droppings to that. Maybe a Word of Command would sink their floating Island into the Cloudlands and everyone could go home in peace.
Maybe ralti sheep danced on the Yellow moon.
Durithion added, “What I’m worried about, if that Silver Dragon reads minds, is how much he already learned about our defences at Jeradia–the patrol patterns, where we would hide our students, and all those details which Emblazon would have known. I don’t believe we can afford to wait for the scholars to find the right Dragon lore. Someone has to rush ahead to forewarn our friends at the Academy and prepare our defences there. And someone should be ready and waiting, here at Fra’anior, to rush any information that is found over to Jeradia.”
Duri had grown almost overnight, Pip thought. Was that the confidence that becoming a Dragon Rider bestowed upon a man? Just listen to him outline a bold strategy, his hand resting on Jyoss’ paw as he spoke.
“Did he get anything from you, Pip?” asked Emmaraz.
“Apart from an eyeful?” sniped Maylin. Dragon and Rider laughed together.
“And a stomach full of bone shards?” growled Pip, deadly sweet. Emmaraz gulped. She stalked him sinuously. The Red Dragon’s jaw sagged as his belly fires soughed in audible appreciation. “No. I kept him out, only just–I hope. Could you do the same, Emmaraz?”
Kaiatha came alongside her as she stared the Red Dragon down. She reached up to place her hand on Pip’s neck. “We need to work together. All of us. Pip, our Dragons have magic. Yaethi has magic. We Fra’aniorians are adept at mental skills. You need to teach us to stand against the Silver Dragon’s power–mentally and physically, whatever we can work out.”
“Me? I don’t know …”
“I’ve an idea,” said Yaethi. “What about the Nameless Man?”
* * * *
When they returned to the courtyard, bubbling with enthusiasm about Yaethi’s idea, it was to find Dragon-Kassik speaking earnestly with a man who resembled a tall, upright stick-insect of indeterminate age. His deep-set violet eyes fixed on them as they landed. He had pointed Fra’aniorian ears, but in his case, the point was so exaggerated his ears could have furnished the average rajal most proudly. His shaven head was tattooed in its entirety. There was about him an aura of such quiet dignity, that Pip and her friends stayed their banter and bowed to him in silence.
Was this the Nameless Man? He was legendary on Fra’anior; the monk said to know the mind of the Great Dragon Himself, and a formidable magician in his own right.
Kassik said, “Friends, may I introduce Master Ga’am? Upon my request for help, he has been sent by the Nameless Man.”
The monk assessed them calmly, one by one. Pip felt the strength of his gaze. The man was a mental fortress. She brightened. If anyone could teach them how to resist the strange Marshal and his Silver Dragon, this monk could.
He inclined his head, very slightly. “The Nameless Man extends the defenders of the free Islands most sulphurous greetings in the Name of the Great Dragon, Fra’anior.” His voice was like steel concealed in silk, so calm, Pip imagined he would drive Maylin crazy at some point. “I am Master Ga’am. We have several hours before departure. That will give us time to cover a few basics.”
Pay heed, Dragons. This is for you, too. Master Ga’am’s wrinkles cracked, very slightly, into what had to pass for a smile for him as the Dragons reacted to his use of Dragonish. I am no Dragon, but I have lived many summers among the mighty Dragon-kind.
Kassik nodded to them all. “Please excuse me. I must attend to a few small details–a lost hatchling, for one.”
Master Ga’am folded himself into an improbable cross-legged position in the courtyard. He said, “We will sharpen our minds as a Dragon sharpens his claws. Great magic requires great clarity of thought. All magic is rooted in the essence of the being–Dragon, Shapeshifter or Human–but formulated, honed and shaped by conscious thought. Whether you think so or not,” his gaze stopped briefly on Maylin and Casitha, “you have magic inside of you. Each person does. Each Dragon does. It is who we are, written into the very fundament of our existence. But magic is not all. Character matters. Willpower plays a role. Stubbornness, too. We will speak about these things.”
Pip winced as the word ‘stubbornness’ brought his gaze to rest on her.
“Now, let us start by clearing our minds of all thoughts, and passions, and worry. When your mind is clear, reach for me here in the centre and I will show you what to do next.”
Next was the likelihood of developing a thumping headache, Pip grumbled inwardly.
Suddenly, a clear image of Ga’am appeared in her mind. Evict me if you can, student Pip. I’m here. Pip swatted at him. No, over here. She steeled her defences, but the Master was already behind them. Don’t flail at insects. Think about what you’re doing. Strategize.
After a few minutes of chasing the elusive monk without success, Pip realised that he was doing the same with most of her other friends and their Dragons, simultaneously. She gasped.
Indeed. The image bowed. There was no arrogance in his manner.
He was just an image. Pip erased him.
Step one passed, noted Ga’am. Now, don’t let the fire touch you.
An armoured Dragon appeared inside her head. Fire erupted between her temples.
Chapter 28: Back to School
Two EVEnINGs later, the Dragonwing from Fra’anior camped at the northernmost end of Yaya Loop. Twenty Dragons filled the small dell Kassik had chosen for them, while two patrolled overhead. Oyda and Nak invited Dragon-Pip over to their fire, where Emblazon gleamed in the firelight, more than twice Oyda’s height even when the Dragon lay flat on his belly.
“A headache a day keeps the Onyx Dragon grumpy,” said Maylin, favouring Pip with a falsely bright smile as she moved off.
Pip scowled. “I will flirt with Emmaraz if I want to.”
“You’re a girl.”
“And a Dragon. Unless you’ve forgotten?” She tempered her hot response with difficulty. Her Dragon senses and responses were just so fiery! “Fine, I’ll admit that finding a Dragon attractive is a touch weird …”
“Very weird.”
“You’re the one acting like a jealous girlfriend.” At Maylin’s hiss of annoyance, Pip snappe
d, “Maybe if you thought of me more like an animal from the zoo, it’d help?”
“Maybe it would, seeing as you’ve an Island-sized chip on your shoulder–”
“Stupid big person.”
Maylin glared at her. “Pig-headed Pygmy.”
Oyda shouldered her way between them. “Pip. Over here. Girl talk.”
“Tell her about young Dragon hormones,” Nak advised as they passed him by. He was helping Yaethi adjust Arrabon’s saddle harness for a better fit.
“Oh, and you’re blameless on that front,” Oyda snorted, throwing in an extra waggle of her hips for emphasis.
“Phee-ooo,” whistled Nak. “Sweet.”
“She does have nice haunches,” Arrabon offered. Everyone who heard, gaped at the usually diffident Dragon.
“Arrabon! Not you, too.” Yaethi slapped him, hard, shaking her head. “Hold on, which one of my friends are you referring to?”
“Whichever riles you most, precious Rider.”
That earned him a second slap.
Arrabon’s dry humour brought a smile back to Pip’s lips as she walked over to Oyda’s fire, close by. Emblazon lay curled in a half-moon about the blaze, his flank radiating the fire’s heat, his scales so lustrous she wondered if Dragon hide did not possess gemstone qualities. One very sleepy eye cracked open to regard her. Pip. Roost with us.
Thanks, Emblazon. He still sounded rueful.
Copying the other Dragons, some of whom were sleeping half on top of each other, Pip settled herself alongside Emblazon’s foreleg, facing in the opposite direction to him. Odd, how as a Dragoness she was supposed to have no qualms about sleeping next to a large male. Pip wondered if it was all so innocent between Dragons. Mya’adara would have had a thing or three to say!
Emblazon had been working non-stop with Master Ga’am; he was exhausted. Oyda’s pursed lips as she regarded her Dragon made that much clear. But soon Oyda was outlining a theory about how women were like the different moons. Pip listened with half an ear.