by Finley Aaron
“This way!” I grab Nia’s arm and pull her into the room, toward the window. “We’ll have to force our way out and fly away.”
“What about Ram?”
“He’s a big boy. He’ll find his way out.” Far more urgently, I need to find us a way out. In a matter of seconds it may be too late to escape. I’m at the window, trying to figure out how to break it out without hurting myself—a tricky proposition in my current attire. Granted, in dragon form I’d be armored, practically invincible to window glass and yagi barbs alike. But in dragon form, I wouldn’t nearly fit in this room.
Then again, it’s not my house. It’s an abandoned building in a deserted prisoner of war camp.
No one will miss it.
“Change with me!” I shout as the yagi shatter the window glass and I leap free of the shards, starting to change into dragon form, extending my wings to shield Nia from the shattered glass and incoming yagi.
She hesitates, instead glancing toward the door where the stairs are just visible at the end of the short hallway.
Ram whips his swords through the last couple of yagi who climbed the banister to bar his way.
“Change with us!” Nia calls to him, before her skin flashes with a blaze of gold, turning as fiery yellow as her eyes, flaring like a billow of flame.
In the split second or two while Nia hesitated, I’d paused, too, half-changed from human form to dragon, winged but not full grown.
Now I swell to full size, my head bowed low as my back and neck press against the walls and ceiling, which break away from the rest of the house with a series of popping noises as rusted nails fly outward into the night, free of the timbers that long held them.
I shake off shingles like so many shed scales, pushing aside trusses as I blast past the last remnant of the rooftop, rising into the sky with Ram and Nia beside me.
It’s nearly dawn. The sun’s early light casts enough of a glow for me to see the hordes of yagi gathered below.
More than dozens.
A hundred? Hundreds?
It’s impossible to count.
We must escape from them—but where can we go?
Knowing we dare not lead the mercenary assassins back to my family, I fly instead due south, in the opposite direction of my family.
Ram and Nia fly with me. For a few minutes we streak through the sky as fast as we can. My only instinct is to flee as far and as fast as possible from the creatures sent to kill us.
But within a matter of minutes, the three of us seem to outrun our initial terror. We slow our pace, glance back to see only woods and mountains, and give each other the same questioning look.
“Where are we going?”
I don’t have an answer. We can’t go back to Azerbaijan, to our fortress home, because if the yagi really are set on Nia’s scent (a claim the massive swarm of mutant mercenaries substantiates), they’ll follow us there. While the steep walls surrounding our village have traditionally protected us from attack, yagi have been knowing to breach our defenses before.
But never in such numbers. Never with such massed determination.
No, going home is not an option.
Where, then?
We shouldn’t fly much longer. The sun is already winking at us from the eastern horizon, visible between mountains as we jet parallel to the undulating skyline.
In a short while it will be fully light out. We may be in a remote area, but we don’t dare fly in full daylight, when people are awake and outside, when anyone could spot us.
And the further south we travel, the less remote an area we’ll be in.
Nia lands first, crashing through treetops in a densely-wooded area.
Ram and I land beside her, morphing into human form only once we’re past the last of the prickling branches.
“I’m going back,” Nia informs us bluntly. She’s still holding her sword—we’re all still holding our swords—and the tilt of her blade, combined with the way she eyes us over the steel, says she’ll defend her choice by any means necessary.
“Back?” I parrot, unsure where back could be. Her homeland? Where ever that is. Surely she doesn’t mean back to Eudora and the mercenary assassins.
“The mamluki,” Nia makes a face, “or yagi, whatever you want to call them—they will not stop until I return.”
Ram takes a step closer to her, his blade upright, not aimed at her, but a visible threat nonetheless. Its angle mimics that of his narrowed eyes, glinting with the kind of sharpened steel that demands to be obeyed. “You’re not going to turn yourself over to her. That’s suicide.”
“I have returned before and she let me live. She needed me—”
“Needed,” I repeat, emphasizing the past tense element of the word. “Our friend Ed destroyed the water yagi operation. The work you were doing for Eudora isn’t needed any more.” I’d say more, but both Ram and Nia start talking over me.
“The yagi will not stop—”
“They’ll kill you,” Ram tells her bluntly. “We’re not going to let that happen.”
“She’s let me live before.”
“The yagi that attacked us back there did not look like they’re were going to let you live.” I shout over the other two.
Nia glares at me. I can tell she wants to refute my claim, but she and I and Ram all know those yagi were trying to kill her—would have killed her, had Ram and I not fought them back. She blows a sudden, impatient huff of air from her nose, turns on her heel, and walks away from us.
“Where are you going?” Ram asks, walking after her.
“I will not endanger you.” Nia’s voice is full of emotion. “The only way I can protect you, is to distance myself from you.”
“We don’t need your protection,” Ram reminds her.
She turns again to face Ram. This time her expression is pleading. “They will stop at nothing. You cannot appreciate the power the white witch has, or how she can control them. If I return to her now, she will command the yagi to halt their attack. Then you can escape. But as long as I am with you, there will be no escape.”
I’m not keen on the way Nia and Ram have kept me out of the conversation. I cut in, “We’ve got a good lead on them now. They won’t catch up to us for some time—probably hours. We can stay ahead of them.”
Nia turns to me. “Only if you never rest. You must keep moving. Are you going to fly over cities and towns in broad daylight? No. You have to stop and rest. You have to stay out of sight. Sooner or later you will get backed into a corner. The yagi will catch up to you.”
She has a good point. You see, being in dragon form is exhausting. It’s not a form we can inhabit indefinitely. The longer we stay in dragon form, the longer we need to rest. So though we might get a lead on the yagi if we fly, we’ll only have to rest that much longer afterward. And if we’re in human form, we’re no faster than they are.
“We’re ahead of them,” Ram says in his usual blunt, unaffected way. “We’ll stay ahead of them.”
“And where would you go?” Nia challenges.
I’ve been mulling this over in the back of my thoughts ever since earlier when she mentioned the places, so I have my answer ready. “China? Fiji? Anywhere you think there may be dragons.”
Nia looks horrified. “I will not lead the yagi to other dragons. No. I admit, I first went to the white witch in search of dragons, but now that she has baited them with my scent, I must avoid them. I must avoid you—for your safety.”
Ram completely dismisses her concerns. “There were only so many yagi tonight because we were close to Eudora’s fortress. The further we travel, the fewer there will be. We’ll stay ahead of the bulk of them. Those who do reach us, we’ll kill, and then there will be fewer. I’m not so concerned about the yagi.”
“You’re a fool.” Nia tells him once he’s finally silent long enough for her to speak.
Strategically speaking, for romantic purposes, it’s helpful for Nia to think Ram’s a fool, because then I seem more appealing by c
omparison. But I need to distance myself from my brother before Nia slaps me with the same label.
My father’s advice was to put her feelings ahead of mine.
Okay. I can do this.
I think.
“Nia, you’re right,” I blurt.
She looks at me, finally turning her attention away from Ram.
“We don’t want to endanger other dragons. The last thing we’d ever want to do is endanger other dragons by leading the yagi to them. And the yagi are dangerous. Very dangerous.” I’m playing for time here, can you tell? But she’s looking at me. Her expression is softening. I need to maintain this advantage, however tiny it may be. This may be my best chance to pull ahead of Ram. “We’ve been looking for other dragons our whole lives. Finding you—” I take a step closer to her, dig deep, express feelings that make me tremble just to speak them aloud.
Feelings.
Scary.
I prefer swords. But for Nia, I’ll express feelings. “Seeing you for the first time was like seeing sunshine after a lifetime of darkness. Please don’t leave us. Please.”
She’s watching me warily. I can see indecision clearly on her face. She shakes her head slowly, “The dangers—”
Ram cuts in. He just can’t let me win, can he? “We’ll stay ahead of them. We’re still in a remote area. We can fly low this morning. Dragons have far better eyesight than humans. We can see them before they see us. We’ll stay out of sight among the clouds and the mountains. We’ll stay ahead of the yagi. When we stop to rest, we’ll take turns keeping watch. Yes, we’ll have to be careful, but we can do this. Stay with us. Please. We’ve searched our whole lives to find you. Don’t leave us.”
I’m a little surprised by Ram’s emotional appeal. He’s the stoic one, even less of a feelings guy than I am. Either he’s being strategic or this female has brought out a side of him even I didn’t think I’d ever see.
Not that it matters which. The only thing that matters is Nia staying with us.
“Please, Nia?” I prod gently, not willing to be ignored, hoping to sway her to stay.
And Ram, not to be left out, repeats, “Please?”
CHAPTER FIVE
In my head, I’ve got it all worked out. There are two males—me, and Ram. Right now there’s only one female, Nia. But the sooner we find the other dragon or dragons, in China or Fiji or where ever, then there will be another female.
A female for Ram.
And Nia for me.
The trick is to find the other dragon before Ram woos Nia away from me.
And, the other trick of the trick, is that the dragon has to be female and single and find Ram attractive. But if we can work out the first two, that last one’s a shoo-in.
So all we’ve really got to do is convince Nia to come with us to search for the other dragons. The journey itself will give me an opportunity to win her affection, assuming the yagi don’t kill us first.
As I’m waiting for Nia to make up her mind, I realize she’s shivering.
“Are you cold?” I shove my sword back in its scabbard and slip the backpack off my back.
“I’m always cold. I come from a land of sunshine. This is Siberia.” She shudders emphatically.
“Here.” I pull the warm cloaks from my pack. My mother packed three of them—one each for me, Ram, and Nia. “Wear this.” I drape the soft fabric around her shoulders and show her how to work the slip-knot closure at the neck, which expands, much like the drawstrings of our shorts, if we have to suddenly change into a dragon while wearing one.
She looks up at me with gratitude. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I give her a look that’s supposed to be tender, that’s supposed to communicate that I am capable of putting her needs before mine. That I want her to love me—and more urgently, that it’s safe for her to stay with us. “Better?”
She nods.
Ram gives me a look that says he saw what I did there, with the tenderness, and that he’s willing to overlook the point in my favor only if Nia agrees to make the journey with us. But he doesn’t say any of that (we dragons are immensely good at non-verbal communication) but turns to smile at Nia. “If you come with us, we’ll take every precaution, heed your every warning. We’ll follow your lead.”
Nia pulls the cloak snugly around herself and closes her eyes. Struggle shows clearly on her face as she wrestles with her decision.
I understand that she doesn’t want to endanger other dragons. It’s a sign of compassion, and I’d love her just for that if I wasn’t already smitten with her for all her other qualities—courage, strength, intelligence, and the fact that she’s a dragon.
That last one’s the big one.
So she’s got to agree to come with us. We’ll make it work. Somehow.
When she opens her eyes, she gives us a wary look that’s almost a warning. “If the yagi prove to be too numerous, if we cannot stay ahead of them, I reserve the right to return to the white witch. But if things go as you say,” she pauses, shakes her head as though she can’t believe she’s saying these words, and fears she might regret them, “I will go with you.”
*
We fly low, our glowing scales on their dimmest settings. We skirt the treetops, gliding slowly, watchfully, using our keen dragon vision to scour the horizon for any sign of humans. When possible, we lose ourselves in the low-lying cloud cover and weave among the mountains.
We’re flying mostly south and a little east. We were east of the Lena River to start with, so we’ll eventually hit the Sea of Okhotsk, and from there, the Pacific Ocean.
But that’s a long way ahead of us, yet. We’re all of us tired—Nia had just returned from flying in dragon form when I encountered her at the cave, and none of us slept at all last night. We’re flying slowly, carefully, which means there’s no way we’re going to reach the coast before we need to rest.
Indeed, it’s barely past noon when Nia droops low, sinking below the cloud cover among the remote mountains, skimming the earth as she follows the valley to a remote hiding place nestled among the mountains. It’s a streambed, the rocky path far wider than the current stream, as though melting snow has traced this trail many times, but is now receded.
We land beside her as she wraps her cape around her shoulders and shivers. “It’s so cold.”
“Do you think it’s safe to start a fire?” I ask.
Ram shrugs. “I imagine so. You get to work on that. I’ll hunt up some food.”
While Ram flies off again in dragon form, I turn into a dragon just long enough to pluck up fallen timber in my talons. It’s so much easier to move the trees when I’m as big as they are.
Once I’ve got a pile assembled in a stony stretch free of other flammables, near the stream so we’ll have a water source, I blow a burst of flames onto the pile.
It’s a cheery bonfire, and warm. Nia immediately steps closer, hands outstretched. “Thank you. I can never get warm enough.”
I nod, swallowing back an offer to snuggle her. From every signal she’s given me, I don’t think she’d welcome that proposal, no matter how chilly she feels. I’d like to chat with her, to get to know her better. She mentioned coming from a land of sunshine. Maybe talking about it will help her feel warmer. “You’re used to a milder climate?”
Nia nods and looks like she’s ready to open up, maybe even tell me more about herself, when Ram returns with a Siberian brown bear in his talons. The clawed creature is a particularly large specimen—probably a good 800 pounds, not including its heavy fur.
“Save the pelt,” Nia requests as Ram changes back into human form and draws his swords to butcher the carcass.
“Have no fear. I’m an accomplished butcher.” Ram winks at her, and then proceeds to show off his expert slicing skills, freeing the hide from the animal before unfurling the pelt in Nia’s direction, fur side up. “This should give you a more comfortable rest—and keep you warm.”
Nia buries her feet in the thick fur and smiles con
tentedly.
I make a mental note to offer to go hunting the next time we make camp. Since our parents both worked as butchers when they first met, they’re highly skilled in the art, and passed their knowledge along to all of us. I can skin a bear just as well as my brother.
As though sensing my chagrin, Ram tosses me a side of bear meat. “Heads up!” He shouts, and I look up just in time for the hundred-pound snack to slap my face. I peel the meat back from my skin and frown. “Thank you, Ram.”
“No problem.” Ram mutters softly, his attention mostly on Nia as he politely carries her a large cut of meat. She’s lounging on the bearskin in front of the fire, and beams at Ram when he offers to roast the meat for her, any way she likes it.
I stab my bear meat onto my longest sword and hold it close to the flames, charring the outside while leaving the inside moist and delicious.
Once it’s cooked, I join Nia on the bearskin (it’s a spacious skin and there’s room for me to sit next to her without even touching her) and we eat in companionable silence while Ram roasts his supper.
“So, where are you from?” I ask Nia once we’ve both finished off our bear portions.
“Tanzania, not that it was known as such then. My ancestors ruled a kingdom that stretched from the easternmost shadow of Mount Kilimanjaro, all the way to the headwaters of the Nile, from the Serengeti to Lake Tanganyika, as far as the island of Zanzibar.”
“Those are vast holdings,” Ram observes, roasting the last of the bear carcass.
“I have many ancestors.” Nia smiles, but then sadness clouds her face. “Not that any lived for me to meet them.”
I want to know more, but I don’t want to pry. Nor do I wish to dredge up Nia’s saddest memories. Still, I can’t imagine that none of them lived for her to meet them. Maybe not long enough for her to get to know them, but she had to have at least met her own mother, didn’t she? When she doesn’t volunteer any more of her story, I ask softly, “What happened?”
Nia sighs. “What always happens? Our people were lied to, told the dragons were evil. They didn’t believe those claims—most of them never did believe the claims—but some were afraid. Or jealous. Unfortunate events were blamed on the dragons. They became scapegoats. When enemy dragons attacked from across the sea, the fearful, jealous people betrayed the dragons. There were battles. Many battles. My parents fought to the very end, to their last breath, but by then they were outnumbered.”