by John Conroe
“No, not at all. I’m actually fascinated.”
“Okay then. Moving on. What did you want to talk to Gargax about?” the Speaker asked.
“I was hoping to find out what roles the dragons played in driving off the Vorsook when they’ve attacked Fairie.”
The young Speaker, who was of an age with the lord and lady, turned and looked at the giant dragon, who in turn looked back. They shared a silent stare for a full minute before Ashley looked at the others with surprise on her face.
“From what he says, it seems almost as if they acted like anti-aircraft batteries,” she said, a note of wonder in her voice. Nira had no idea what that all meant, but both Declan and Stacia seemed surprised.
“How?” Declan asked.
Ashley glanced at the dragon and tilted her head. The answer seemed quicker this time. “They worked in pairs, or triplets, tucked into holes in the ground or rock. One or two would use their magic as a shield while the other would use their breath to attack Vorsook aircraft.”
“The dragon fire is fast and hot enough to damage spacecraft?” Declan asked.
The Speaker conferred with the King of the Dragons for another few moments. “He says normal dragon fire wouldn’t work. But the older ones eventually learn a variant of their fire that does work quite well.”
As she spoke, Gargax lifted his head to point at the sky above. He pulled back his neck like a fishing bird getting ready to spear prey. The air around his head and upper neck became distorted, blurry, as if immense heat waves were rising around it. Suddenly, he opened his vast jaws as wide as a snake and a ball of intense white blurred from within. The mini sun rose so fast, it was gone before Nira could even focus on it, her vision left with a starry streak of light that was almost blinding.
“Holy shit, that was plasma!” Declan said.
“You’re sure?” Stacia asked.
“Absolutely. Very similar to what I use,” he said.
“He says it is a skill that must be learned over countless years. Only the oldest can do it, but even the youngest can learn to help shield,” the Speaker translated.
“It would be like having dozens of you spread out all over the place,” Stacia said to her mate.
“That would be amazing,” Declan said.
Ashley’s head snapped around to the dragon. “Ah, Gargax says the dragons of Fairie will not be involved with the Others on your world, Realm Holder.”
Declan looked at Stacia and turned back, opening his mouth to speak. Ashley beat him to it.
“He says every battle with the Others cost dragon lives that have never been replaced. Their numbers dwindle and…” She trailed off.
“What? What did he say?” Declan asked.
“He didn’t. He stopped talking,” the young Speaker said, confused.
In fact, the dragon’s head had turned from the humans and was looking off to the west. Suddenly, Nira realized he was looking in the direction of her home—and the hidden cove.
The massive creature suddenly shuffled his feet and wings, then straightened his neck and roared so loudly, it shook leaves from the witchwood trees on the field’s edge.
“There’s another dragon,” Ashley said, frowning. “Really young. Oh! Oh wow!”
“What is it?” Stacia asked, having to yell because the roar had turned into a trumpeting sound.
Gargax went silent, head on point like a hunting canine. Suddenly, from the island’s western edge, a winged shape flew up into the sky, wheeled around, and flapped bronze wings in their direction.
Nira’s heart was in her throat as she watched Storm fly in and backwing to a landing with nimble grace. The young female looked tiny against the immense bulk of the massive black Gargax, but the bigger dragon gently sniffed and nuzzled the little one. Then his head whipped around to look at the humans, and his expression was deadly.
“This is his child… his missing daughter. He thought her dead but finds her hidden here,” Ashley said, her own voice rising in anxiety as the king dragon stamped about, turning his form away from Storm.
The young female dragon suddenly darted forward and placed herself between her giant father and the humans—or at least between him and Nira.
The young bronze pushed her face up toward her parent and bugled at him.
“She says she was attacked by another dragon during a storm. That she washed ashore and only lived because of”—Ashley turned and pinned Nira with her dark eyes—“you!”
“Nira?” Armond asked.
“What could I do, Papa? She was lying in my cove, barely alive. You were on a woodgathering trip. I couldn’t leave her to die. I did what I could. But she repaid me the other day. I was swimming and a siorc attacked. She killed it.”
“Siorc?” Ashley asked.
“Shark,” Declan said, not taking his eyes off Nira and her bronze protector.
Storm trumpeted again and stretched her wings out wide.
“She says the scales are not yet balanced,” the young Speaker translated. “You saved her life, and she yours, but you also saved her wings.”
With her wings outstretched, the scars covering both were very visible and very graphic.
Gargax leaned down and inspected his offspring’s wings, then turned his head and looked carefully at Nira with his full attention.
“You’re right,” Ashley said to the biggest dragon. She turned to the others. “He is amazed that his daughter took such horrific damage yet is fully healed. Your skill with needle and thread and the endurance it must have taken to stitch that many wounds is incredible,” the Speaker said to Nira. “Flight is everything to a dragon. Your gift to Storxyan is beyond any form of measurable value. Saving your life ten times is not likely to even the scales.”
“I didn’t do it so Storm would owe me. I did it because it was right,” Nira said. “Although her name isn’t Storm, is it? Storax?”
“Storx-yan,” Ashley said. “But she likes your name for her better.”
Her words were backed up by the gentle dragon nose that pressed against Nira’s torso.
Gargax rumbled, his head looking at his daughter, the tone so deep, it shook the ground. Storm rumbled back, her tone almost cute compared to her father’s.
“He wants to know what dragon attacked her. She doesn’t know, it was unfamiliar, but she would recognize it by sound or sight if she came across it.”
“What ever happened to Trygon?” Stacia asked.
“He disappeared into Winter’s realm,” Ashley said.
“Show her a memory of him, see if it rings a bell,” Stacia suggested.
Ashley looked at the little dragon and Storm suddenly shrieked in fury and fear.
“That’s a yes,” Declan said.
“You think?” Ashley said.
Gargax lifted his head and roared. It shook the very ground they stood on and forced everyone to cover their ears. Across the island, scores of gulls and other seabirds shot into the sky, screeching in alarm.
Ruffling his wings in agitation, the king of the dragons gradually settled himself.
“Was that wise, great one?” Ashley asked out loud, looking at the dragon. Nira couldn’t believe how brave the Speaker must be to talk so directly to the largest of dragons. Gargax snarled but didn’t look at the small human girl who questioned him, instead staring off to the north.
“Why did you ask that?” Stacia questioned.
“Because a roar like that from a dragon is both auditory and mental. If you think the sound of it carried, the telepathic version of it went three times as far,” Ashley said. “If Trygon is anywhere within two hundred miles, he’ll hear it. And he was named specifically.”
Declan and Stacia stared at the Speaker for a moment. “You think Trygon will hear it and know something is up with Storxyan?”
Ashley shrugged. “Possible. Why risk her safety?”
Gargax shifted his bulk as if to get comfortable, then spun about so he was again facing the humans.
“He suggests
that there is a possibility that I may be right, maybe,” Ashley said, turning her face to hide a smirk from the dragon. Then she abruptly looked back at Gargax. “He wonders if Storxyan can hide out here for a time.”
“If I were Trygon, this is where I would start my hunt,” Stacia noted.
“I have an idea,” Declan said, his voice tentative. “Perhaps, if she agreed, Storxyan could accompany us to Earth for just a short bit, maybe a week or two. I would like to learn more about how dragons control their fire and magic. Then we would bring her right back, either here or wherever you tell us, Ashley.”
“He says it won’t work,” Ashley translated after looking to the king dragon. “Earth doesn’t have enough magic for her to fly or protect herself.”
“Well that’s both true and untrue. Much of Fairie’s over abundant magic is because the Queens expended so many elementals to protect the planet. Earth’s elementals are relatively stingy with releasing magic. But I have alliances with most of them. Plus, one of the reasons I’m here is to utilize this excellent Rowan wood, excuse me… witchwood, to store magic. Nira, do you have your amulet with you?”
Startled at being included in the conversation, it took Nira a second or two to respond, but then she pulled her amulet from inside her dress collar. She held it up and instantly found herself under the scrutiny of both Storm and her mighty father.
“It’s too small,” Ashley translated.
“I would make several of them in her size, like, say the size of a plate or platter,” Declan said. “I can recharge them when and if they run low, but so far my experiments show these trees on this island produce unusually powerful artifacts.”
Father and daughter dragon looked at each other, communing silently.
Ashley stepped over to Nira. “How are you feeling?”
“What?” Nira was confused.
“Right now, this moment, what are you feeling?”
“Sad, anxious, why?” Nira said, glancing at the others, who were paying close attention.
“Because those are the emotions that your friend Storm is conveying to her father. What else?”
“Ah, maybe excitement?”
Ashley nodded. “Yup, exactly right.” She turned to the others. “Nira here has an emotional bond with that young dragon, and it goes both ways. They can sense emotions from each other. It’s not telepathy, but it allows them to communicate in their own way.”
“What are you saying, Ash?” Declan asked.
“That perhaps if Storxyan agrees, Nira might come to Earth with her to help you all communicate. I can’t be there a lot, especially as I think the big G over there is about to go on a warpath. It’s just a thought.”
The smaller dragon whipped around at Ashley’s words and looked right at Nira, her expression clearly hopeful. Nira laughed despite all the emotions flooding through her. She was simultaneously afraid and too excited for words. She looked at her father, frowning.
“It sounds like it would be a grand adventure, and just a few weeks,” Armond said. “I was talking to young Stevie, and he might try his hand at woodworking to see if he’d make a likely apprentice.”
“But the garden? Preparations for winter?” she asked.
“Stevie can help with some of that, and all the gold our Lord Realm Holder paid will make for a comfortable winter no matter what we both do,” her papa said. “It’s just a few weeks and you had such fun in Idiria, daughter. How could you pass up such a chance?”
Nira glanced around at all the faces watching her. Virtually the entire community was there. She saw Lottie and Bett and the rest of the women’s council, she saw Milken Waxwillow and his father, Lentin and Rhine Cobblink, Old Kenny, and standing shoulder to shoulder, Keply and Nattle. The entirety of her previous life was standing on that field, and the path of her future began and ended there, except for the fork in the path that was Storm.
Suddenly she got a belly full of dragon nose as Storm shoved her head up against her. She felt hope and… love, pouring off the dragon. “I would be honored, my lord,” she said without looking away from the big black eyes that were focused on her.
Storm pulled back and trumpeted to the sky.
“Anyone need a translation for that?” Ashley asked.
“Nope, clear as day,” Stacia said. “Let’s get to work,” she said to her mate.
And she was right. There were impromptu flying lessons with Ashley, who also provided a spare jacket. There was packing of her stuff, again, while her father obtained the wood that Declan wanted. The lord of the realm spent hours carving two plate-sized amulets and secured them to ship’s rope. He handed them to Nira, and she presented them to Storm. One side was an image of Storm herself, and on the other, a very good likeness of Nira. The dragon was very taken with them, preening and trumpeting about the fields.
In all, it took three days to get fully prepared. Nira used her little spare time to clean up the garden, make sure the hawk-chickens were re-settled, and even prepare some food for her father.
Finally, it was time, and the whole island came to see them off. First, Gargax and Ashley said their goodbyes and then left for the north. The pallets of witchwood were carted to the field and sat on the ground near where Nira was saying goodbye to her father.
“Ready?” Stacia asked her. She nodded, too excited and also scared for words.
The beautiful Lady of the Middle Realm nodded at her lord and without any fanfare, he gestured at the open field in front of them. A tear appeared in the very air, widening rapidly until it was bigger than a wagon’s length. The scene before them was another field, this one with alien flowers, a different yet familiar-looking forest in the distance. Declan kept one hand pointed at the opening and waved his other hand at the heavy stacks of wood. Without a sound, they floated up and through the opening. Then he nodded at Stacia and she took Nira’s hand, leading the girl and the young dragon through the tear in reality. Nira stepped out onto a lush field that smelled of flowers and grass instead of ocean and salt. She glanced back to see Declan stepping through, her father waving at her from behind. She waved once and the doorway zipped itself shut.
Turning around, her hand on Storm’s warm hide, she spotted a set of buildings whose lines were the straightest she’d ever seen. An attractive woman perhaps a decade older than Declan stood watching them, a bright smile on her face. For all the alienness of the world around her, the woman looked like she’d fit right in with the people Nira had left behind, although many of the women’s council would not want their husbands chatting with this one.
Another person approached, and it took Nira a moment to realize this too was a woman, just one with short hair, a uniform of sorts, and a muscular build.
“Nira, this is my Aunt Ashling and my step-aunt Darci,” Declan said. “This is Nira and Storxyan.”
“Welcome you are then, the two of you both,” Ashling said, holding hands with Darci. “Let’s get ye settled. My nephew had sent word about ye both and it’s good to meet you.”
A shriek from the largest of the structures sounded, clearly a barn, and suddenly another dragon appeared, this one less than half the size of Storm. It launched itself in a short glide across the lawn and landed behind Declan.
“This is Draco, and as you can see, he’s clearly very excited to meet you.”
Nira sensed puzzlement from Storm, like the dragon wasn’t real. She raised both brows at Declan, who laughed. “He’s an Air Elemental who thinks he’s a dragon. He’ll help keep Storxyan’s amulets charged. Come on, let’s get you settled. There is a lot about this world to explain.”
Nira looked back for her luggage, which had been stacked atop one of the pallets. The two big cases were floating along behind them, all on their own. She turned back and found Stacia grinning at her. “You’re about to have a grand adventure, Nira. Lean into it.”
She’d heard the lady say those words once or twice before and understood. And she fully intended to lean into the next few weeks with every bit of he
r being. She looked at Storm and felt the exact same sentiment from the king’s daughter.
Parabellum
Preparation is vital.
“FALL DOWN EARTH GERMS AND PREPARE TO DIE!”
I’m not going to lie; I came really close to falling to my knees. The telepathic voice inside my head was so powerful, it froze my brain for a microsecond. Luckily Tanya’s brain is made of sterner stuff and she can lend me her strength of mind through our link.
So instead of collapsing, I straightened and fought through the awful force of will that bore down on me. My hand clutched the Rowan wood amulet that Declan had provided to each of us and instantly the pressure to obey receded from overpowering to merely migraine-inducing.
Tanya was already moving, Cling climbing up one of the concrete silos above me. I jumped to another one and followed her lead, eyes, ears, and other senses questing ahead for traps or ambushers.
Grim took over about thirty feet into the climb, just as an armored figure came rushing down the silo, running like a rappelling Army Ranger, just without the rope or harness. The figure was covered in what looked like depleted uranium armor, the kryptonite to my God-given powers. Rushing on two feet, it came fast at my crouching form as I was Clinging with both hands and both feet. At fifteen feet, Grim launched me upward in a straight leap, angling off about thirty degrees from my attacker’s path. And as I flew upward, Grim spun me around, my sword slashing around directly at the attacker’s legs. He, and I was fairly certain it was a he, leapt off the silo, avoiding my strike but effectively launching himself into open air. His eyes locked on me as he fell downward at a truly impressive speed. I let go of my sword with one hand and pointed behind him. He didn’t look, but sudden fear replaced the fierce determination he had projected in his eyes.
Tanya’s sword strike behind him smashed into the middle of his back with a vicious crack and pain filled his features as he was flung across the huge space to smash into a solid concrete wall. Had her weapon not been blunted, he would have been sliced in half. Instead he crashed, banged, and boomed all the way to the bottom, sixty-five feet or so below.