A tree branch blocked the commander’s path. He stopped to haul it aside.
Miri rose and fired.
The bullet hit the commander in the chest, knocking him off his feet. He landed on his back in the brush.
Miri didn’t wait to see if she had killed him. She grabbed hold of Gythe and dragged her to her feet.
“We’re going to make a run for it!”
She and Gythe ran through the undergrowth, heading in the direction of the boat with the Bottom Dwellers crashing through the woods behind them. Miri waited tensely for the bat riders to shoot at them, but no green fire flared. They didn’t want to risk killing Gythe.
Miri and Gythe knew the woods. They had laid rabbit snares here, and nets to catch birds. Miri followed an animal trail past the field where the dragons were still waiting for stories and a song. Miri barely cast the beasts a glance.
Hearing pursuit behind them, she was shocked to suddenly find her way blocked by one of the Bottom Dwellers. Keeping fast hold of her sister, Miri veered off the path. She was forced to backtrack, heading once more toward the field.
The weeds and bushes clutched at her trousers. She stumbled and almost fell and Gythe pulled her along. Then Gythe tripped over a tree root and Miri caught her, and they kept going. She looked over her shoulder to see the Bottom Dwellers still in pursuit.
Miri tried to circle back around to the Cloud Hopper, only to find that way blocked. The bat riders were acting like beaters—boys sent into the woods to beat the bushes to flush out small game and drive it toward the hunters. They were herding Miri and Gythe toward the field. They wanted them out in the open. Miri was too exhausted to try to think why.
Her thigh muscles burned. She was dizzy, gasping for breath. Gythe tugged at her sister, urging her to keep going.
The field opened up before them. The tall grass was sodden from the rain or she might have been able to hide in it. The Bottom Dwellers were behind them and when she and Gythe tried to turn back toward the boat they cut them off.
The dragons were still there, alert and wary. Hearing the sounds of men running through the woods, the dragons reared their heads in alarm. Flames flickered from their mouths. They lifted their wings in warning.
Miri paid no heed to the dragons. She couldn’t run much longer and, anyway, there was nowhere to run. She would make her stand on the fringes of the trees where at least they had some cover. She put her arm around Gythe, drew the stowaway gun, and aimed it at four of the Bottom Dwellers, who came running out of the trees behind her. The four saw her and the small pistol and came to an abrupt halt.
“I have only one shot,” Miri said, speaking the Trundler language. Gythe had said that when the Bottom Dwellers talked to her, they spoke in the language of the Trundlers. “I can’t kill all of you, but I can kill one.”
She waited for the Bottom Dwellers to rush her. They stood unmoving. Miri couldn’t see their eyes because they were hidden by their helms, but she suddenly realized by the upward tilt of their heads that they weren’t watching her.
They were watching the dragons.
“The great beasts are our friends,” Miri said boldly.
Grasping her sister’s hand, Miri began to back up, moving into the field toward the dragons. Gythe stared at her in astonishment. Miri was lying through her teeth, but she had to risk it.
“If you attack us,” she continued, pointing her gun at first one of the Bottom Dwellers then at another, “our friends the dragons will be angry and they will rip you apart.”
Gythe understood and she began singing a song, a martial song Stephano had taught her about the Dragon Brigade and the dragons who fought alongside humans. She sang it loudly enough that the dragons could hear.
The Bottom Dwellers didn’t move. The dragons thumped their tails on the ground, warning the humans—all the humans—to keep their distance. Miri wondered why, if the dragons were afraid, they hadn’t simply flown away.
Whatever the reason, this standoff couldn’t continue for long. Miri’s arm shook with fatigue, and the hand holding the gun was wet with sweat. She hoped with the last hope left in her heart that Dag and Stephano were still alive and that they had heard the gunshot and were coming to help. If she could just hold out until they arrived …
Hearing a shrill whistle, Miri glanced up. Three bat riders circled overhead. As if the whistle was the signal they had been waiting for, the four Bottom Dwellers sprang at her.
Miri fired wildly. She hit one of them, but another grabbed hold of Gythe and tore her from Miri’s grasp. Gythe screamed and struck at the bat rider with her fists. Miri rounded on him, punching and kicking, trying to break his hold. In the distance, she heard Dag calling her name.
“Miri! Where are you?”
“In the field!” Miri shouted, using the voice she used when the storms raged and the wind howled in the rigging. “Dag! Help!”
Another bat rider tore her away from Gythe, and threw her to the ground. Miri landed heavily, spraining her wrist and bruising her knees.
“Dag!” Miri yelled, staggering to her feet. “They’re taking Gythe!”
The whistle sounded again. A bat rider landed on the ground. The Bottom Dweller carrying Gythe ran to the bat and flung Gythe to the rider, who dragged her onto the back of the bat. Keeping fast hold of her, the rider ordered his bat into the air. Screaming, Gythe frantically reached for her sister as the bat spread its wings.
Miri ran after Gythe, trying to catch hold of her, but the bat flapped off. Miri made a desperate lunge, missed, and fell into the wet grass. She could only watch in grief-stricken horror as the bat rider carried Gythe away.
She heard the bat riders thrashing about in the wet grass, coming for her, but she paid no attention to them. She kept her eyes fixed on the bat rider that had Gythe.
“Miri!” Dag yelled.
Miri looked over her shoulder to see Dag and Stephano running toward her, shouting to draw the attention of the bat riders, who turned to face this new foe.
The bat rider who had abducted Gythe was having a difficult time keeping hold of his prize. Gythe was fighting like a wildcat. Miri heard in quick succession the boom of the blunderbuss, then a pistol shot, and the crackle of green fire.
The dragons were still in the field, wings spread. They appeared to be transfixed by the fight. Eyes wide, they gazed down at the battle raging in front of them. Miri kept her eyes on the bat. Forced to carry the weight of two people, the bat was flying slowly and seemed to be having trouble gaining altitude.
Miri jumped to her feet and ran toward the dragons, shouting and waving her arms.
“Help me!” she pleaded. “I need your help!”
Behind her, she heard more gunfire. Miri kept running toward the dragons.
Verdi reared up and spread his wings, his mane bristling. Viola lowered her head and hissed. Petard, the young male, was wary, but seemed more intrigued than fearful. Miri stopped in front of them. She had to take time to catch her breath. Her words came out in gasps.
“I know you understand me!” she told them. “You saw what happened. They took Gythe. She played her music for you. She sang to you. Help me get her back!”
Miri pointed to the bat carrying Gythe. The bat was dwindling in the distance. Miri spread her hands, entreating the dragons.
“Please! We don’t have much time! Help me save her!”
Verdi lowered his wings. Viola quit hissing. Petard looked at the bat, then lowered his belly and chest to the ground. Miri watched, amazed and thankful. The young dragon was inviting her to fly with him.
She ran toward Petard and climbed up onto his foreleg. From there, she took hold of one of the spikes of his mane and pulled herself up onto his back. Petard’s bluish-purple scales were rough and dry beneath her hands. She settled herself in the space between the first spine on his broad back and his neck. Gripping with her thighs, Miri rested her back against the spike.
“Grab hold!” Stephano yelled to her.
He was
running through the grass toward her, pointing to the spike of the dragon’s mane about a foot above her head. Miri clasped hold of the spike with both hands as Petard rose from the ground. The dragon spread his wings, shifting his weight to his hind legs, and propelled himself into the air. His leap slammed Miri back against another spike. Flattened against the spike, Miri stared straight up along the dragon’s neck into the clouds.
Viola flew alongside Petard, barking something at him. He looked around at her and roared back, and Viola left, speeding on ahead. Miri clung to the spike with both hands and looked down to see the ground falling away from her. Smoke was rising from the field where the grass had caught fire. She could see Dag clubbing one of the Bottom Dwellers with the butt of the blunderbuss and Stephano standing in the grass watching her.
She looked back into the sky, searching for the bat carrying Gythe. For a terrifying moment she thought she had lost sight of it, then Petard leveled off and Miri saw the bat and Gythe, whose white blouse showed up clearly against the gray clouds. She was sitting in the saddle in front of the Bottom Dweller, who had his arm clasped around her. Petard flew straight for them.
Viola was closing in on the bat and its rider. Miri kept her eyes fixed on Gythe until the wind in her face made her eyes water, forcing her to blink and look away.
“Gythe, dear, if you can hear Bottom Dwellers in your head, you must be able to hear me!” Miri said. “I’m coming for you!”
Gythe twisted around on the bat, looking behind her, and managed to wave before the Bottom Dweller yanked her back.
Miri was cheered until she realized, now that she was up here, she had no plan, no idea how to save Gythe. The Bottom Dweller had one arm around Gythe, and was holding the reins with the other. Before Miri could decide what she should do, she saw that Viola had her own idea. The dragon swooped down behind the bat and shot a thin jet of flame from her mouth.
The flame struck the Bottom Dweller in the back, blazing through the leather armor. Miri couldn’t hear his screams, but they must have been horrible. He slumped in the saddle, either dead or dying.
She had no time to dwell on his fate, because just then she caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of her eye. One of the other bat riders was flying up to help his injured comrade. Viola must have seen the danger, for she bellowed a warning. Petard snaked his head around, but he was too late; the Bottom Dweller had already aimed his weapon at Petard. Miri flattened herself against the dragon’s back and could only watch, horrified, as the fire ball struck Petard on the upper leg.
The ball of green flame was so small compared to the size of the dragon that Miri thought perhaps he would not even feel it. But Petard snarled in pain and Miri was startled to see green lightning arc around the dragon’s leg and across his chest.
Wherever the lightning touched his scales, the green fire scorched them, burning the scales black. Petard shuddered and hissed. Viola was flying back to help her brother, but before she could reach him, Verdi soared alongside them. Shielding Petard with his body, Verdi opened his mouth and spewed fire.
Orange flame engulfed the bat and its rider, and they plummeted from the sky, trailing smoke behind them. The three dragons were furious, roaring and howling back and forth.
Miri feared they had forgotten about Gythe. She beat on Petard’s neck with her fists and pleaded with him to go after her. Petard calmed down, shook himself, and once more flew toward the bat carrying Gythe, with Viola and Verdi flanking him.
The body of the Bottom Dweller hung from the saddle, arms dangling. Gythe was pulling on the reins, trying vainly to gain some control over the creature. The terrified bat wanted only to flee the dragons. The bat had lost much of its ability to maneuver, however, and before long, Viola and Verdi were able to flank it, keeping the bat penned between them. Whenever the bat tried to escape, one of the dragons was there to stop it.
Gythe reached for Miri, leaning as far out of the saddle as she could without falling.
“Like when we were children!”
“Fly as close as you can!” Miri yelled at Petard.
Petard rose slightly, veering around to come beneath the bat, bringing Miri within arm’s length of her sister.
Miri reached her hand out to her sister, and Gythe stretched as far as she could. Finally, Miri’s fingers closed over Gythe’s wrist, and Gythe clasped her hand around Miri’s wrist, a feat of acrobatics they had performed when they were young, playing in the rigging. Miri pulled with all her might.
As she pulled, Gythe jumped from the saddle into Miri’s arms. Miri had to relinquish her hold on the dragon’s spike to catch Gythe, and for a heart-stopping moment she thought that she was going to fall and take Gythe down with her.
When Petard saw that his riders were in trouble, he raised his right wing and lowered his left, counterbalancing the weight. Viola gave a satisfied snarl. Grabbing the bat by the wing, she bit it in half, and spit it out.
Miri held Gythe close. The wind blew her tears off her cheeks.
6
Our experiences in life are likened to the hammer and anvil used by God to forge our faith. We are tempered, beaten, made strong yet flexible so we can endure the storms that batter our lives. We bend, but do not break.
—Mother Superior Aylwyn, Abbess, Saint Erin the Just
Their descent was terrifying. Petard spiraled down rapidly, leaving his passengers to hold on for dear life. The dragon had not been trained to land with humans on his back, a special skill that required the dragon to soar level above the ground, descend slowly, and land gently. Petard was flying too fast. The ground rushed at them. Trees and sky and grass whirled past.
Miri’s stomach roiled. She was so frightened she couldn’t cry out. She gripped the spike on the dragon’s mane with both hands and closed her eyes. Gythe clasped her arms around her sister and braced herself.
The dragon’s hind legs hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud. His front legs touched next, slamming Miri and Gythe forward against his neck. Then he settled to the ground and folded his wings. Miri could do nothing for a moment except try to calm her fast-beating heart and catch her breath. She opened her eyes to see Petard’s head twisted around. He was staring at her. The muscles on his back rippled, and his eyes narrowed.
“We have to get off, Gythe,” Miri said in a strangled gasp, which was all she could manage.
She dismounted hurriedly, sliding down from the dragon’s back and landing on his foreleg. Gythe followed and both jumped to the ground. Dag started to run toward them. The female dragon hissed at him and raised her wings. Stephano shouted and Dag stopped.
“Miri, come away,” Dag said shakily.
Miri gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile and then turned back to the dragons.
“Thank you,” she said earnestly to Petard. “Thank you for saving my sister.”
Gythe made a sign with her hands.
“Gythe says she will sing a song for you tomorrow, a special song to show her gratitude.”
The other two dragons gazed at Miri impassively, their eyes hooded, giving no hint of their thoughts. Petard was trying to put up a brave front, but he was obviously in pain. Charred scales ran down the length of his leg and up across his shoulder. Miri was shocked by the extent of the damage.
She and Gythe slowly walked away, conscious that Verdi was keeping an eye on them.
Dag stood waiting for them. Beneath the soot and gunpowder, he was pale.
Stephano was staring at the dragons in awe.
“They have been listening to us!” he murmured. “All this time, they’ve been listening.”
Dag held out his hands to Miri. “I’m sorry. I should have been there to protect you.”
“You’re here now,” said Miri. She clasped hold of his arm, rested her cheek against his shoulder. “I feel so safe with you. Now we can all go home.”
A spasm of pain crossed his face. Miri thought she knew what was wrong.
“My boat!” she gasped. “Somethi
ng’s happened to the Cloud Hopper!” Her heart constricted with fear. “It’s gone. They burned it. You’re afraid to tell me!” She whirled around. “Stephano, tell me!”
“No, no, Miri,” Stephano said hurriedly. “The Cloud Hopper didn’t suffer much damage at all. Gythe’s magical spells saved the boat.”
“What then?” Miri eyed both men narrowly.
Stephano took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh. “They hit the starboard lift tank. The gas is leaking out. But the boat is fine.”
“The boat is fine. We just can’t sail it!” Miri drew back to stare at them in dismay. “Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Miri, it’s not that bad … Miri, wait—”
Miri couldn’t wait. They had come so close to escaping this prison. Tired as she was, she broke into a frantic run.
She found Rodrigo standing over the smoldering ruins of what had once been their dining table, poking and sifting among the chunks of blackened wood. Rodrigo was a sorry sight. He had a bloody gash on his cheek, and his hair, caked in blood, was straggled about his face. His lavender coat was ruined, his trousers covered in grass stains, dirt, and soot.
He looked up at Miri, who had stopped to catch her breath.
“The lift tank is leaking!” Rodrigo told her. “Is there some way to stop it?”
“I hope to God there is!” said Miri, hurrying to board the Cloud Hopper.
Rodrigo followed her onto the ship. “Where’s Gythe? And Dag and Stephano?”
“They’re safe; they’re coming along behind me.”
Rodrigo gave her an unexpected kiss on the cheek. “I said a prayer for you both, and you know how I am about praying.”
Miri smiled at him wanly. “You don’t look so good.”
Rodrigo put his hand to his own cheek. “I have a skull-cracking headache and I’m certain this gash will leave a scar.” He regarded her anxiously. “Can you fix the leak? You have to fix it. You will, won’t you?”
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