The Summer Dragon

by Todd Lockwood

  Bellua looked from Father to Mabir and back again. “First of all, this story must be contained until we can decipher its meaning.”

  “What is to contain?” said Father. “The news of the sighting escaped last night. Mabir heard it in the Temple infirmary, and the acolyte, Tulo, was there with villagers in prayer.”

  Mabir nodded. “I was ministering to the faithful. I’m afraid the word is already out, good Bellua.”

  “What is your need for silence?” said Father. “I would think you’d want the whole world to know.”

  Bellua shook his head slowly. “You may have spilled a barrel of snakes. This will take on a life of its own if we aren’t careful. The message of this event must be carefully managed.”

  “Why?”

  Before Bellua could answer, Captain Rov stood, his tattoos writhing eerily on his forehead as his scowl deepened. “Enough bickering. This didn’t just happen on the day before midsummer, it was also the day before Brood Day. That makes it significant to the brood itself, and therefore to the Ministry of Defense and to the Dragonry. You want context? Let me remind you that we just lost our most productive aerie.”

  Mabir swallowed nervously, while Bellua studied the faces around the table.

  Rov glowered. “There is your context. The Ministry needs dragons, and it needs them now. We must retake Cuuloda then cross into Harodh and kill Horrors at their source. I have requisitions to fill, Magha Broodmaster, and arguing over signs doesn’t change the fact. It will be a year before the qits are old enough to begin combat training. Combined with Bellua’s analysis that all omens serve Korruzon, I believe that neither child should get a dragon, because I need them. I need them all.”

  My heart froze. I looked at Darian, and he looked back with ashen face.

  “Please, good Rov.” Mabir rose painfully. “This pulls two ways. If Korruzon forces the context, as we’re calling it, to expand all the way to Cuuloda and the battle with Horrors, then Getig draws it back here again. You cannot ignore the smaller aspect any more than the greater one, no matter how dire. If Getig’s appearance is related to the fall of Cuuloda, then why did he appear here?”

  “Because the qits are here. They’re clearly important. The Dragonry needs them.”

  Father thumped the table again with his fist. “I need them, and the Dragonry is best served if—”

  “I’m sorry, Magha. You do not realize how desperate the need for them has become.”

  “Then listen to the dhalla! Honor the Summer Dragon. Leave me the qits that I need so that I can expand the aeries.”

  Rov looked exasperated. “I have my orders. The qits are ready now, and we need to get them to the training grounds and the recruits who will bond them. I won’t debate this forever!”

  No one spoke for several long seconds until Bellua cut through the silence, his voice as clear and sharp-edged as a shard of broken glass. “There is a bigger question we still have not answered. We don’t know that the children saw anything at all.”

  My jaw dropped.

  Darian sat straight. “What do you mean? Of course we did!”

  “Hush, Darian,” Father reprimanded, but he looked at Bellua as he said it.

  Mabir’s face stretched long with disbelief. “Why would the children invent such a tale?”

  “They attend your sermons, do they not? And did they not tell that the old temple ruins were one of their favorite haunts? Ruins that include a statue of High Dragons. Why would fanciful imaginations not consider such a tale, with that as inspiration?”

  “What are you suggesting?” said Mabir.

  “Magha’s children desperately want dragons of their own. By their own accounts, they knew they weren’t going to receive them. What could change the calculation? What might generate favor for their cause? A cause their father shared. The favor of the Avar of Change?” He looked at me. “Perhaps they have concocted this story to create an illusion of divine acquiescence to their desire.”

  “You impugn me when you impugn the integrity of my children.” Father’s tone was low and icy.

  Bellua raised a hand. “I don’t mean to suggest that you coached them in this tale. That’s an unfair accusation—”

  “Now you put meaning in my words that I did not intend.”

  “I don’t mean to impugn anyone but to determine the truth. I require proof.”

  I could take no more. “Then let’s go find proof!” All faces turned to me as I swallowed. “A High Dragon stood on the ruins yesterday. I know it, and Darian knows it. So let’s go see for ourselves.” Darian nodded, color returning to his cheeks. I was suddenly aware that I’d been to the top of the ruins and found only a lingering scent.

  Bellua also nodded, but his eyes were clouded. “If there is no evidence, then this whole exercise is a waste of time, and Rov should receive his dragons.”

  Mabir leaned on the table. “Then you would agree that, if we can ascertain that the sighting is a true event, some sort of tribute must be paid that rewards the children and expands the aeries?”

  I held my breath. Mabir, our wise old dhalla, had neatly trapped the merihem in his own logical construction.

  “Perhaps.” Bellua nodded at last. “If we can so ascertain.”

  “And you, Captain Rov?” said Mabir, “You are the master of this acquisition.”

  Rov looked at Bellua, then back to Mabir. He locked eyes with Father, then Darian, and finally with me.

  My skin shrank.

  “I will defer to the decision of the dhalla and the merihem,” Rov said.

  Mabir nodded. “Very well, then. The mauling of Fren is a given, and Magha has already explained how he will counter that bad omen with a good deed. If there is a dragon corpse in the forest, we can find it and affirm the truth of it. Let us eat some of this food before it goes to waste, then visit the ruins and make our determination quickly.”

  EIGHT

  WITH LITTLE FURTHER discussion, we returned to the compound and saddled dragons for a flight to the ruins. Father took Mabir on Shuja, Darian rode with Tauman, and I shared Audax’s saddle with Jhem. Bellua and Rov followed the others to the temple ruins, while Jhem and I flew beyond the ridge. The valley looked just as it had yesterday, with a warm sun, gentle wind, and birdsong. Yet it felt entirely different. Gone was the sense of wonder, the immersion into mystery.

  It did not take us long to spot the dragon corpse from the air, and we landed in the clearing. Jhem knelt beside the body as I had done, her mouth downturned. “It’s a female. Lighter-boned than a male. Not even Coluver’s age. I hope she didn’t have babies.”

  Silently she used her knife to separate the last few dried ligaments holding the skull to the neck. She took the rear leg bone with the wire noose still imbedded in it as well, and gave them to me to hold as we flew to the ruins. They were large and heavy, and difficult to hang on to. In the end we had to wrap harness straps around them to keep them in place.

  I felt awful with the grisly remains of this wonderful creature in my lap. It shouldn’t have died that way. Suddenly it did feel like a bad omen to me, as if a curse had awakened that would soon assert itself in force. I started shaking. I couldn’t stop.

  Jhem wrapped her arms around me. “It’s all going to be fine.”

  When we landed, everyone was gathered beyond the statue of Menog and Dahak. Mabir looked up at our arrival and summoned us over. He pointed at the bones that I carried, then to the block of marble I’d sat on yesterday. I set the remains down gently.

  Bellua poked at something behind the statue with a branch. “And this is the deer you dressed? Lying here gnawed by vermin and covered with flies, in a holy place dedicated to the Most High?”

  A look of horror swept Darian’s face. “We”—he paused—“we were excited. We’d just seen the Summer Dragon.”

  This was the first time Darian had said we, not I�
�when he explained a failing.

  “So you hid the offering where it would be found only by the foulest scavengers.”

  “It wasn’t meant to be an offering. We just wanted it out of the sun. We were going to bring it home.”

  “But an offering it became, because of your negligence.”

  Darian shrank where he stood, then saw the dragon bones that had joined our bounty from the day before. His eyes met mine, then dropped to the remains of the deer on the temple floor.

  “Here is proof of the other omen.” Mabir indicated the skull and leg bone. “Noose and all.”

  Bellua did little more than glance at it. “I see only ominous signs, but no proof that a High Dragon visited anywhere near here.”

  “Can’t you see, Bellua, that this alone is proof? Why would the young ones invent a tale so polluted with bad energy? If they were going to fabricate a story, wouldn’t they make it as beneficial to their cause as they could?”

  “Or did they take advantage of symbols that might lend authenticity to a lie?”

  “We didn’t—” Darian began, but silenced himself, glancing at Father.

  “We should look up there.” I pointed to the top of the ridge. “That’s where he landed.”

  Mabir patted me on the shoulder. “Let us walk, shall we? It has become difficult for this old man to climb on and off of dragons.”

  Mabir leaned on my arm as we climbed the hill to the ruins. It took time to negotiate the steep terrain and undergrowth. It was hard work for the old dhalla. Once there, Mabir and Bellua began to inspect the site. Mabir needed aid, as the grounds were littered with cracked pillars, tumbled blocks, and deadfall. In silence, he turned rocks with his toe and bent occasionally to study the earth. It was almost all gravel and crumbled marble. There was little to see. Desperate for some evidence, I started to look, too.

  I pictured Getig again in my mind. The image was still so clear. I could see exactly where each foot had rested: one forelimb there, on that fallen column, the other there, on that cracking block, and a rear foot . . . “Here!” I pointed at the spot, waving everyone over. By the time Mabir arrived, all the others, including Bellua, had joined me around a large patch of moss.

  It contained most of a massive footprint, easily five feet across. Unmistakably, the pad and talons of a dragon’s foot had crushed the moss into the damp earth beneath.

  “By Korruzon,” said Father and Jhem, almost in unison.

  “See?” Darian grinned. Father failed to admonish him.

  “So there you are, merihem Bellua ad Reitleh.” Mabir held a hand toward the impression on the ground. “Proof that a High Dragon stood upon this spot.”

  I looked up hopefully.

  The merihem nodded slowly, his brow fissured in thought. “We have heard at least six interpretations of its meaning already: Magha’s, the dhalla’s, Captain Rov’s, mine, and each of the children. See how quickly an event like this can develop its own momentum? A thorough investigation is in order. I should take Darian and Maia with me to Avigal, to be examined by the Council before we go about inventing meanings or dispensing qits.”

  My heart stopped.

  “No,” said Father. “It’s too long a journey, tied as it is to a wagon train. Even if you leave the wagons and fly, you would make me short-handed for weeks or months. Raising broods of dragons is laborious, as you well know.”

  “You can always hire help to do menial work like shoveling and—”

  “It’s not all menial work, merihem. Darian and Maia grew up with dragons. They understand them. They’re comfortable around them. What happened to Fren was the result of unfamiliarity; he shouldn’t have taken his cart so close behind a dragon. And I need those broodlings. The Dragonry needs for me to raise more dragons.”

  Mabir patted Father’s arm. “The High One appeared here, Bellua. And the signs at last show us the way.” He spread his hands to indicate all the gathered evidence. “Magha has already resolved the problem of Fren’s injury. Now we must honor the appearance of the Summer Dragon in Riat, whether he was Getig, and unique, or a reflection of the will of Korruzon.” He nodded deferentially to Bellua. “It should be an offering of life, not of more death. And because of the Day, I would recommend that it come in the form of a qit, one for each of Magha’s children.”

  “I agree,” said Father.

  Bellua stared at the footprint, studying it, as if the answer to his dilemma would leap from it and take wing.

  He nodded to himself, then looked up. “I concede that Riat deserves acknowledgment. I agree that the disposition of the qits is the heart of the matter, and that we must reach an agreement that protects every interest. The boy will receive his dragon.”

  Darian clenched his fists together. I held my breath.

  “But we must also appease an offering of flesh poorly tendered, and the death of one of the very creatures whose existence defines Riat and the aeries of Magha. The High One Himself showed us the rest of the answer when he led Maia to the dead dragon. She was being negligent of her duties when this occurred, by her own account. It is the one sign in all these portents that is hers alone. Maia will not receive a dragon.”

  The words tightened into a sharp knot of pain in my stomach. I collapsed to my knees. I could see the little brown-and-buff in my mind’s eye every bit as clearly as the Summer Dragon.

  Bellua continued. “Thus, Korruzon will be satisfied that we don’t give away more than He would have us give, at least until we can seek His council. The blessing intended by the Most High will also be honored. Rov will get all the dragons he requires save one. And Magha will begin to grow his aerie in anticipation of future needs. Do you agree, gentlemen?”

  Rov looked at Bellua, his face grim. “I defer to the wisdom of the merihem.”

  “This isn’t fair,” said Darian.

  As tears began to sting my eyes, I looked to Father.

  “I need two qits, not one. Don’t unbalance my aeries. I need a second broodling. You’ve created a problem for me that you won’t let me resolve out of my own clutch.”

  “The broods are not yours,” said Rov. “They belong to Emperor, Ministry, and Korruzon.”

  “I will lose Darian’s young one as a broodsire if he’s too old to bond properly with a new mate, or if the chosen mate is too young. It depends on the qit’s personality, but you can’t predict personality or select for it if the pickings are thin. The only way to ensure that two dragons bond is to raise them together. Those bonds last a lifetime. A rogue male is not something you would wish upon me.”

  “You oversee wild stock, do you not? In the valleys beyond the cliffs? Why could you not steal a qit from a wilding nest?”

  “No. I wouldn’t even consider it. A wilding baby has no experience of human care. It wouldn’t respond to a human.” Father’s voice had grown edgy. He was only barely maintaining his calm.

  Bellua shook his head. “Be that as it may, the Rasaal Council must hear this tale directly. Lord Korruzon Himself should hear it—”

  I interrupted. “I thought you said that was Korruzon we saw yesterday. Wouldn’t He already know all about His own visit to Riat? Ask Him what it means.”

  Father gripped my shoulder. “Let me handle this, Maia.”

  Bellua barely restrained his anger. “Korruzon will want to hear directly how His message was received. He cannot think for you, nor interpret for you. We should appeal directly to His wisdom.”

  My anger finally burst out. “Why do you play these word games?” I shouted. “From the moment you heard our stories, you’ve done nothing but look for evil—”

  Bellua turned his furious gaze to me. “I play no games, child. My motives are simple: to protect the interests of the empire, and above all to further the interests of the Rasaal, and those of Korruzon—”

  “You weren’t here yesterday! You have no idea—”
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br />   “And those of Korruzon, your Lord and Protector. This is an incident of potentially monumental importance. It cannot be judged only in light of your quaint, provincial routines or the desires of children. Nor can I let it be turned into a folktale, spreading and acquiring a narrative all its own. The Rasaal has a serious interest in ensuring that the truth be properly told, in its proper context.”

  Father put his hands on my shoulders and pulled me back. “The Ministry needs for me to grow my aeries. At the same time it’s making it impossible for me to do so. I need my daughter’s experience here every bit as much as Darian’s, and I need another qit.”

  Mabir’s face pinched in concentration. “A yearling is not too old to bond with a mate.” My ears burned. Was Mabir backing down?

  Father shook his head. “Only if circumstances are right. I’d be a fool to count on that.”

  “Then perhaps you should wait until next year for any qits,” said Bellua as he stepped up to Father, his face mere inches away. “I begin to understand why you spilled the story of the sighting to the village—to cement in the minds of your townsfolk that it was ordained, immutable, and tied to Riat. You thought you might use it to wring a pair of qits out of the requisition. But you are very mistaken.” He glanced at each of us in turn. “It is my duty to ensure that this story maintains some semblance of accepted truth. I have allowed you one qit; as Captain Rov pointed out, the qits do not belong to you or to any broodmaster, except at the sufferance of the emperor. You may find it very difficult to acquire a qit if you insist on telling this story your way. If need be, a dam can be found for your new broodsire. Even if I have to arrange a marriage for your daughter in another aerie, which a year from now may be the only option you have left.”

  I felt my face go white. I looked to Jhem and Tauman, Father, Darian, and Mabir for some sign of dissent, but all were silent with shock on their faces.

  “There are merihem as well who would happily marry a dark-eyed beauty so well versed in dragonlore.”