The Summer Dragon

by Todd Lockwood

  “But you rescued me too, Dare. You lit the fire, or I’d have never made it into the cave. I’ll never forget the way you stood up to the Harodhi shaman. You made it possible for me to bring home Keirr. And you fought hard, even though you were badly injured. Like Borgomos said—like a prince of Gadia.”

  “But don’t you see, Maia? I’ll always be the other character in your story.” He looked at me. “The one that got in the way and had to be rescued.” He turned his face away again, and my heart ached for him. He would never be Broodmaster, but at least he’d been the next oldest, until my notoriety eclipsed even that.

  “We’re not a story, Dare.”

  “You don’t think so?” He looked at me with his chin elevated, a half smile on his lips, and I knew he was right. We were a story at least as far away as Cuuloda.

  “Then they’re telling the story all wrong. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Darian shrugged. “I’d like to think that Getig held something for me too. Something more than just . . . more than . . .” He held his arms out to the world. “Something. I just feel disconnected. Even Aru—it seems like he goes to you as often as he comes to me.” I felt a tingle at the back of my neck and tried not to look horrified. I reached out and put a hand on his arm.

  “Don’t take this wrong, Maia,” he said quietly. “I’m really, really proud of you. It’s only that . . .” His face became pinched as he surveyed the tattered heavens.

  “What?” I asked him.

  He looked at me again. “It’s that I’m ashamed. Of myself.”

  “Why ashamed? Darian . . .” I stumbled on my words as I considered what our shared bondmark might be doing to him, what unintended damage it might have caused. I’d only suggested the idea to Mabir out of fear for his life, and that of Aru. Mabir had asked me to remain silent, and I’d agreed not only because he’d asked me but also for fear that Darian might let it slip at the wrong time. To the wrong person.

  In the span of that pause hung the balance of Darian’s bravery. He stood up abruptly.

  “Don’t try to make me feel better. I’m not that upset. I don’t know why I brought it up anyway.” He clapped his hands, startling Aru and Keirr. “Up!” he shouted, sounding an awful lot like Father. “Weather is clearing on that peak.” He indicated the narrow blade of Zurvaan over his shoulder.

  “We should head back, Dare. We don’t want to get Cairek in trouble.”

  “I’m going to give it a try.”

  He leapt onto Aru’s back and started buckling in before I could stand up. “Darian! What are you thinking?”

  “I’m not thinking.” He grinned. “I’m doing.” He spun Aru about.

  “No!” I shouted, and Aru turned back to me.

  “Confound it, Aru!” Darian slapped the left side of his neck to turn him back again.

  “Darian,” I shouted. “There’s no air up there.” I checked my girth quickly and scrambled into my saddle as Darian and Aru stepped off the ledge into an updraft.

  I buckled in, then turned Keirr around. “Ghee, baby. HAI!” We launched into the slipstream too.

  I’d forgotten to pull my goggles on, and the wind blinded me with tears. “Higher, Keirr, HAI!” I said, wiping my eyes, getting my goggles arranged. I recovered in time to see Aru peel out of the curtain of rising air and wheel toward the jagged crest of Zurvaan.

  “Buk Buk, HAI!” said Keirr.

  By the time I rose to the same height and followed them, Darian and Aru clung to the icy windward face of Zurvaan, well below the peak, tiny as flies. I could tell the currents were fierce. Aru couldn’t hold his wings’ shape against the torrent. He attempted to climb, but finally leapt from a broken shank of stone into the gentler gale on the lee side of the peak. I gasped in relief and turned Keirr to follow them.

  They glided downward in tight spirals, the cliffs resounding with Darian’s joy.

  Zurvaan loomed above with snow swirling around its ancient shoulders, wielding the Crag like a stony scepter.

  We dived steeply through Buk Buk’s trail, caught his spiral and hovered in right above him. Then Keirr pushed off Aru’s rump with her back feet and propelled us up again. Darian yelped. Aru tumbled for an instant with an angry “Keirr!” but then thrust off into a flat dive down the slope of the mountain. We streaked after.

  We caught up to them, suspended in an updraft off a sharp ridgeback, and nestled in alongside. Darian still laughed. “Oh, my. Oh, Maia, you have to try that. It’s like Aru and I were one, thinking and reacting together. We simply . . .” His face contorted in his effort to find words. “Connected. Like a belt into a buckle, or the two halves of an apple you just sliced in two.”

  “That was crazy dangerous, Dare—”

  He grinned at me, catching his breath. “Yeah. I think the fear is part of it. I do. Not only that, but I know how to take that peak now. Not on the windward side, but up the eastern face, in the lee. There’s a calmer updraft in the center. I felt it.” His smile shrank. “Uh oh, well. Playtime is over.” He pointed down to the east. “There’s our escort.”

  Below us several dragon shapes glided slowly toward some objective further down the face of the mountain. But they weren’t Cairek’s men looking for us. More than their ungainly mannerisms and burnt skin, their tattered wings gave them away.

  Darian’s face fell but his eyes grew intense. “Horrors, Maia. Korruzon’s flaming ass. More Horrors.”

  Where could they have come from? Yet another uncharted doorway into the mountain? There were five more dragons further down the hill. Darian and I recognized those as Cairek, Bellua, and our Dragonry escorts.

  “They don’t see the threat,” said Darian. “Why aren’t they looking up if they’re looking for us? Idiots.”

  “Darian, you have to fly home fast and get help.”

  “Why do I have—”

  “Because Aru is faster than Keirr!”

  His eyes froze on mine for a second, then he nodded grimly. “What are you going to do?”

  I looked down the face of the mountain and shrugged. “Warn them.”

  “Gods. Be careful.” He tapped Aru on the right side of his neck. “Home, Aru. GO!” Aru angled off the lip of the updraft and sped for the aeries.

  I nudged Keirr out of the stream, and we began to fall slowly on her outstretched wings, studying the situation. Three Horror dragons had position on Cairek’s men, and wafted down quietly for a surprise attack like eagles on rabbits or dragons on deer.

  “LO, Keirr!” A steep dive, now.

  She turned an eye back toward me—a wide eye. Then she drew in all but the fingertips of her wings and stretched her neck out straight. Profiled like the fletching on an arrow, we slid forward off the updraft, then accelerated straight for the band of Horrors. I bent my legs hard against the laces, pulled flat to her neck, and took a deep breath.

  A canyon opened beneath them. I tapped Keirr’s neck in simple communication. She clicked an acknowledgment, pulled forward just a little bit, tucked her wings in completely, and plummeted. The beasts rushed up at us, their silhouettes fractured and wrong, but not in a way I could identify before we hurtled through their formation and down. I thought suddenly of the shadow creature, the Edimmu. Where was it?

  The Horrors roared. Leathery wings cracked to life behind us.

  THIRTY-NINE

  WE SHOT TOWARD Cairek’s men circling with Bellua below, Keirr steering us with only her wingtips and tail to keep her profile narrow and fast. I had no intention of stopping.

  “Below!” I screamed, and their heads snapped up. Then I burst through their formation like an arrow. Shouts and commands erupted behind.

  “Heeey,” I said and Keirr flattened out. Tapped her on the right side, and she circled wide toward the mountain, to seek another updraft. I looked back.

  Two of the Horrors, their surprise ruined, s
culled into a hovering position above Bellua, Cairek, and his teams. The third twisted round them all and came after me.

  “LO! Keirr!” I screamed in panic, and she drew wings and tail tight. We plummeted again, but not fast enough. It gained on us, pushing with its wings as it fell. Already I could see the sickening green glow deep in the cataracts of its flesh.

  “Gods, Keirr! It’s too fast. We have to be nimble, like ‘chase’ with Aru. Chase, Keirr!”

  Keirr was terrified, but engaged. I turned her loose to use her instincts. I would only be dead weight anyway. She torqued rightward abruptly, did a half barrel roll to press us toward a rocky tower, righted herself again to swing behind its broken margin. I pulled hard on the saddle grips to keep myself close but cracked my head against the side of her neck. She ran up the backside of the tower with assist from her wings. The Horror shot around the prominence well below us and started rowing upward. Good, we’d added distance. The Horror was fast, but it was huge too, and needed more room to change directions. We reached the top of the tower and Keirr dove into a rising stream of air, rode it higher. I looked down to see Cairek’s men engaged in a circling, tumbling battle with the other monsters. Only three teams, battling to keep Bellua safe from the Horrors. Bellua’s dragon, Zell, wasn’t made for this. She was an older nurse dragon, not a youngster or trained military.

  One of our escorts was missing. Cairek, but I didn’t have time to look for him. The Horror following me stepped from the tower into the updraft, where its adult wingspan gave it an advantage. It rose after us, shoveling huge wingfuls of air behind itself. How could wings so riddled with holes even function?

  “Ghee, LO!”

  Keirr turned left and plummeted toward the opposite margin of the tower, then behind it, through a crack between two pillars. Out into a turbulent expanse of air. Lost her equilibrium and tumbled. I lost hold of the saddle as she spun, blood rushing to my head. She stuck out a wing and fanned her tail, swung upright again, but at cost of momentum. She bottomed out of the dive—the blood flow to my head reversed abruptly. I swooned and blacked out. Awoke a second or three later, to find Keirr looking back and screeching in fear. The Horror was upon us, sculling to arrest its own speed so it could bring its weapons to bear.

  Instead of foreclaws it wielded two long, downward curving blades, like scythes bolted below the dragon’s elbow, enwrapping in metal whatever stump remained of the leg beneath. It raised them like the two blades of a giant scissor. Keirr twisted again and propelled us sideways at the last instant. One of the ugly blades whistled in the air above my head. The Horror’s momentum carried it past us. We put distance between us again.

  The beast wouldn’t stop. It turned and flapped after us. Keirr bounced down a ridge of stone, pushing off each protruding rock with legs and wings to change direction and add speed. Twisted through a series of crevasses, forcing the Horror to take longer routes. Found favorite air currents that added distance between us. But the beast had strength and experience to draw on that we didn’t. What space we gained with agility and maneuverability, the monster took back with dogged persistence. It stayed close, no matter what we did.

  I felt Keirr’s desperate energy. After playing on the mountain all day, she was close to exhaustion. I tapped the side of her neck and turned her toward open sky where I could get my bearings. The Horror followed. We found a rising column of air and rode to the top. The beast entered the current and lifted after us.

  Above the next ridge, two other Horrors chased Bellua. Even though the Dragonry aided him, his dragon struggled to elude the monsters. Where was Cairek?

  The Horror drifted nearer. The rider raised a crossbow, cocking it. From this high vantage I saw the abomination clearly, and my stomach knotted. His legs were splayed open like a frayed end of rope. Muscle, tendon, and bone were woven into the construction of the saddle, which knitted into the ribcage of the beast with brackish light seeping out through the fissures. Charred hide and black armor blended grotesquely, one burnt corpse woven to another. “Crispies,” Cairek had called them.

  Keirr tipped sideways—too soon. The Horror followed and gained more air. Keirr was beginning to panic, but I didn’t know where to direct her. The aeries were in the opposite direction, over another ridge. Turbulent winds swirled above its sawtooth spine, but help would come from that direction or not at all.

  “Home, baby, take us home.”

  She thrust straight down, then folded her wings close. I squeezed my legs and clung to her neck as she fell, both of us gasping for breath. I didn’t have a weapon on me, not even a knife. What were Dare and I thinking, evading our armed military escort?

  Keirr bottomed out of her dive and inertia gave me weight. I squeezed my legs and pulled close to her neck to keep from blacking out again and to minimize my profile to the wind. She sped a long way on momentum alone, head pulled back against her neck, ear frills covering my head and shoulders. I glanced back to see the Horror streaking out of its dive close behind us. The rider raised its bow. I tapped Keirr and shifted my weight to steer her left, then twice to the right. He loosed, but missed us by a wide margin.

  The Horror suddenly thrust backward and up, sculling to a hover as one of the Dragonry teams dropped between us, top bow cracking. It was Cairek! Two of his teams sped our way with the other two Horrors in pursuit. I didn’t see Bellua.

  Cairek had bought me time to flee for home, but I couldn’t abandon him or his men. I guided Keirr into a long, wide turn around the fight, circling up and behind—not followed, as near as I could tell. A new current pushed us higher.

  We were exhausted beyond words, running on desperation alone. No energy left to draw on but each other’s. In that pause I realized how tightly we were bound. Connected through trust and language and endless practice together, yes, but also through our bond marks. Was it more even than that? Sweet Avar! Is this what Darian meant? Throughout the chase I seemed to read her intention, anticipate her movements. She responded almost as quick as thought to my directions. Minds almost blending. At some instants we’d been Maia/Keirr, and at others Keirr/Maia.

  I closed my eyes briefly to will myself into her body, to seek out that point of connection and tap it again. I listened. In that instant I heard Cairek’s men shouting communications to each other. Top bows chattering. Wind in fabric, wind on leather of jacket or wing. Even around the edges of my goggles. Keirr clicking. The single click. Not the conversational click, but the—

  With the first faint echo, the answer struck me like a bolt of fire.

  Playing with her chicken carcass, stalking Aru. Imitating Darian’s war-whoop—echoes and all—so well that I could feel the cliffs. And the conversational home-click with its repetitions, like echoes. Unlike the single click away from home.

  Those echoes she listened for.

  With the certainty of wind in high places I understood this now. She’d explained it to me herself with her imitation of Darian. Keirr and her kind listened for the echoes of their vocalizations to feel their world, the breadth and depth and volume of it. Then later, they told those pictures to each other with their language. Their three-dimensional language. They spoke in echoes.

  I realized that my judgment of these high spaces—their heights and hollows and fathoms—paled next to Keirr’s. I would never, ever see them as well as she did.

  And now, I needed to see them well. An unwinnable stalemate swirled below me. I marveled at the Dragonry’s skill—I could no more navigate such a battle than I could tie snakes into knots. Cairek’s battle was a slow retreat. He understood the same thing I did—that help would come from Riat. That we must move this fight in that direction. Bellua and Zell still lived, struggling to avoid the Horrors without getting in the way of the Dragonry. Cairek’s men rained arrows down with their topbows, but it had little effect on these burned monsters. They never tired. Melee was not an option—the very touch of the things did damage. Soon t
he Dragonry would run out of ammo and face the same desperate exhaustion that had nearly overcome Keirr. However ungainly the Horrors were in flight, they were unrelenting, and they wanted the merihem. The thought of letting the crispies have him entered my mind.

  I couldn’t do that. I stretched out and touched Keirr’s bond mark. Warm. She looked back at me with a beautiful silver eye. With a minute’s rest and the chance to assess the situation, I knew what to do.

  This was our mountain. We knew the chutes of air, the dead spots and live spots. We knew where to scull, drift, rise, sideslip. With shouts and touches, I guided Keirr into a steep dive that took us straight toward the nearest Horror. It had gained position on Bellua and banked for a strike. “Tag it!” I said close to her ear.

  As we neared the beast at full speed I shouted, “Heeey! Heeey!” Keirr reached down with her rear claws as we flashed past above it and pushed off the monster’s head. I watched behind. Bellua twisted clear, and the thing turned to follow us. I pressed myself to Keirr’s neck and shouted, “GO!”

  We shot like an arrow toward the ridge. The beast followed immediately.

  Good. But he gained on us, faster than the one with the blades for arms. Fear poured through me. If we misjudged this timing, we were doomed. Keirr grasped where my commands directed her and why. I sensed it immediately, like an electric jolt to her purpose. We aimed low at the cliff face and the Horror angled in high, meaning to trap us.

  At the last moment we bent our line sharply upward, caught the fountain of air gathered at the base of the cliff. The monster failed to adjust to our sudden momentum and hit the airstream at a hard angle. As we shot past an arch of stone, the wind drove the Horrors full into it. Green glowing chunks shattered away. The raging air of the channel hurled us skyward. We whirled and spun in turbulence. I pulled close to Keirr’s neck, striving to see more than glimpses of sky or earth. Cairek and his teams followed me. Casualties? I couldn’t count that fast. At least one Horror still followed. We tumbled until Keirr found her equilibrium, flipping us over and up.