The Summer Dragon

  I had no answer, so I looked away from him.

  “What happened to your mother, Maia?”

  I felt my face flush with suppressed anger and sorrow. I prayed he wouldn’t see it in the color of my cheeks or hear it in my hesitant answer. “One of the harness straps on her saddle failed in a steep dive, and she fell to her death.” Rage seethed up in me. This was not for him to know.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to open an old wound. I didn’t mean to pry. I do understand. Truly.” He bowed his head briefly. “Well, I can only thank you again,” he said, and turned away. He didn’t leave, but wandered about, touching nests, studying the pole-barn architecture and equipment on the walls, waiting for the clutch to deliver. Then he stopped beside Keirr and Buk Buk curled together asleep in a nest. With his nose tucked under his wing, Aru’s bond mark showed. Bellua leaned toward it, frowning. Then he turned and looked at me.

  Only then did I remember that I’d tied my hair back to keep it out of the way. Before I could stop myself, I’d reached back to undo my ponytail. His face lit with understanding.

  Grus moaned softly, the sound trailing off into a rumble.

  “She’s beginning,” said Father. “Tauman, hand me a towel. Darian!” He whistled through his teeth and Darian sat up abruptly.

  “Time already?” He ran a hand through his hair.

  Bellua wandered closer.

  “Here comes one already,” Father said to him. He laid his towel on the wood chips beneath Grus’s arched tail. “She laid nine eggs last year. If she matches that we’ll have a new aerie record.” He said it grimly.

  “Yes, I remember,” said Bellua, but he watched me.

  Grus’s rumble ended, and an elongated stony tan orb with gold flecks eased onto the towel. “That’s a good size,” Father said as he wrapped it and passed it to Tauman, who carried it to the washbasin. Jhem took his place with another towel for Father.

  The eggs appeared two or three minutes apart, just enough time for one person to wash and dry an egg. Each still needed to be weighed, registered, and recorded. Soon we had four eggs in the cart, wrapped in blankets to keep them warm on their short trip to the broodhouse where Shuja waited.

  “I’ll be right back,” said Tauman. He checked the lantern on its hook atop the cart, then pushed the cart toward the door.

  “Hurry,” said Father. “They’re coming faster now.”

  Lightning flickered outside, illuminating the Roaring across the bridge for an instant before darkness returned with a thunderclap.

  Jhem took the next egg as Darian lined up. I grabbed a steaming towel from the pile. Darian lifted another egg in his arms as Jhem washed hers.

  A fist pulled my hair into a tether from behind. “Hold still,” said Bellua.

  “Let go of me!” I reached backward, but he slapped my hand aside.

  Darian shouted “Hey!” but the fist only pulled tighter.

  “What do I see here?” Bellua asked. I reached backward again, but he only forced my head down and slapped my hand aside once more. His fingers brushed the bond mark on my neck. “There are two naming rings in this bond mark.”

  The low rumble of repeating thunder shook the doors. Bellua leaned close to me. “What have you done?” he whispered.

  “Let go of her!” Father shouted, but he held another egg in his hands, with no one to pass it to.

  Darian set his load in the straw next to him and reached for Bellua’s wrist, but Bellua intercepted him with his other hand, twisting Darian’s arm in an unexpected way that left him momentarily helpless. Then he released us both at the same time, pushing us away.

  Jhem and Father desperately gathered another egg into a towel.

  “You should have known the naming ring on Aru would emerge one day. But you expected me to be gone by now, didn’t you.”

  “What are you talking about?” said Darian.

  “Don’t you know?” Bellua turned to him. “You share your dragon with your sister.”

  Darian’s face crashed as he reached back and touched his bond mark. He looked at me with betrayal scratched in every hollow of his face. “What?”

  “I only did it because you wanted their bond to fail.”

  Bellua’s eyes grew wide and his brows shot up. “How can you think that?”

  “It’s true. You kept them apart when Darian was weak. I saved Aru’s life. From you.”

  Father charged past me and grabbed two fistfuls of Bellua’s coat, his hands still wet with birthing fluids, and shoved him backward until he slammed into a wall. He pinned him there and hissed, “If you ever touch my daughter like that again I will throw you off this cliff.”

  Bellua said nothing but waited for Father to say more or release him. Father did neither for a full minute, until Tauman returned with the empty cart and asked, “What’s going on here?”

  Father pushed away from Bellua, who straightened his lapels as he scanned the room. “How many of you knew?” he asked.

  “Just me,” I said. “No one else.”

  “You and Mabir, then.” He looked at Jhem, then Tauman. “And who else?” He shook his head. “I warned you to stay away from Mabir and his tainted beliefs, Maia. But I see I was already too late.” He looked long at Darian before he turned back to me. “You should keep your hair loose, Maia, while I decide what to do about this.” He turned and marched out the door.

  “What was that?” said Tauman.

  No one answered. Everyone stared at me. Darian stepped up to within a foot of me, eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

  “We were afraid that Aru might die if your bond marks weren’t finished, but Bellua wouldn’t let us put you together. We did it so that if . . .” I swallowed my first choice of words.

  “What? If what?”

  “If you died from your wound, then Aru would be saved.”

  Anger battled with pain, gratitude, embarrassment, and confusion on his face. He looked at Aru and Keirr, both of them now alert. He turned to Father and Tauman and Jhem. Then he turned back to me and put his nose within inches of mine. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Because Mabir told me not to. Because I feared that your tongue would betray us all. Because the dhalla and I became complacent, feeling perhaps that our heresy would stay safely hidden if we remained silent. For a number of reasons, none of them good, or right.

  When I failed to answer, he stalked to Aru and commanded him to his feet.

  “Darian, I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you.”

  He shoved by me without a word, took the lantern from beside the door, and marched his dragon into the rain. Aru cast me a worried eye as he passed.

  “No, stay here!” I shouted, and Aru stopped.

  Darian stood in the rain looking back at his dragon, then glared at me with pain in his eyes. “Aru! Come! Now!”

  When Aru turned at last, Darian popped him on the nose.

  “Dare, please don’t—”

  “Leave us alone, please,” he said, turning. The rain came down harder, and Aru covered Darian with a wing. I started out the door after them but Father called me back.

  “I need you here,” he said. “We’re out of towels, and Grus is exhausted. We have a mess. Go fetch more—”

  “Father, my mess is much more horrible.” I waited for him to look up. When his eyes finally met mine, his expression softened, and he nodded. I headed out.

  The thunderstorm blended everything in my eye. Sky, horizon, and aeries—a murky canvas dotted with pale lanterns and little else. I navigated by flickers of lightning across the bridge to the paddock. Men on the aerie roofs stirred at the splash of my feet on the wet paving. “Who goes now?”

  “It’s Maia! Where is my brother?”

  “That way,” said a ballista man from the darkness.

  “Don’t know,” said another.


  That was helpful.

  I heard the creak of the saddle jib at the far end of the paddock and knew it was Darian. I ran to stop him. I needed to explain it to him, make him understand that I was only looking out for him. Before he did something really stupid.

  But he wasn’t there. Through the open tack house door, his saddle was just visible in lantern light, still in place on its rail. Puzzled, I stood and listened. Drumming rain. The occasional distant rumble. Wind shifted the jib and made it squeak again.

  “Dare?”

  I swiped wet hair out of my eyes and turned back toward the manor. He must be there, then. But something nagged at me.

  He wasn’t in his room, and Aru would have been obvious waiting outside anyway. Surely they didn’t go into the forest. Perhaps the Dragonry camp, though I couldn’t imagine why. I walked back to the head of the bridge, but turned toward the military camp despite my doubts. I didn’t come here very often any more, so I went slowly, waiting for lightning to show me the way. All I could see were dark masses of tents and folded wings. I kicked myself for not bringing a light. Or my dragon.

  “Who goes?” I hadn’t even seen the man until he spoke.

  “It’s Maia, the broodmaster’s daughter. I’m looking for my brother.”

  “I seen him crossin’ yon bridge a short bit ago, with his dragon.”

  “Gods,” I said under my breath, but then, “Thank you.”

  I returned to the manor as fast as I could and grabbed a lantern from the hall. Outside again, I called for Keirr, and she met me as I rolled the stable doors aside. Father shouted something, and I answered, “Darian’s leaving, and I have to stop him.” Keirr and I raced across the bridge to the compound again. I cursed myself for not bringing her in the first place. Then, as I crossed the paddock, it struck me. Why were the tack house doors open? Why lantern light when it should be buttoned down tight? I ran, and Keirr trotted beside me. You could hide a young dragon in the tack house while you gathered your gear. It should have been obvious. I felt like a fool.

  Darian buckled the harness across Aru’s chest as I arrived. He’d strapped a knapsack across the saddle, along with his quiver and bow.

  “Buk Buk!” said Keirr happily, and Aru nuzzled her.

  “Dare, please listen to m—”

  “I told you to leave us alone.” Darian mounted into the seat as Aru shuffled anxiously. He started to unhook the saddle jib, but I reached up and grabbed his hand.

  “Please, Dare. I’m sorry! Let me—”

  He slapped my hand away as Aru took a step backward. He unhooked the clasp, but I grabbed the step rung on the forward strap of his saddle. He commanded Aru back, but I clung tight.

  “Darian, please listen—”

  He stomped my fingers with his heel until I let go, then leaned toward me. “I have to go.”

  I grabbed the step rung again, now angry. “What are you talking about? Dare, what do you think you’re—”

  “Everything is about you now. Everything becomes yours somehow. My place in the family. My life. Getig. Even my dragon.”

  My mouth dropped open. “We were scared, Dare. We didn’t know what else—”

  He backed Aru up again, and my hand slipped off the rung. “I have to get away. From you, Maia.”

  The angry words left my mouth before I could stop them: “You. Selfish. Little. Shit.”

  He shook his head, then wheeled Aru about and galloped off the parapet into the night. I saw them briefly one more time, a silhouette against distant lightning as they lifted on a downstroke into the black sky. I saddled Keirr as fast as I could, though my hands felt slow and clumsy. Rain blinded me as we launched, but I knew which way he would go with his satchel full of gear, his coat and leggings, his bow and quiver. This wasn’t simply a flight to burn off anger. I directed Keirr north, toward Mt. Zurvaan.

  Lightning cracked in an arc over my head, turning the rain into bright spears. “Darian, come home,” I whispered, the peal of thunder drowning my words. I’d been in such a hurry. I had no gear; no goggles, no coat, not even my bow. Soon I was soaked and shivering, but I urged Keirr higher. “Find Buk Buk.”

  She pressed harder, but we had little hope of catching him. I could tell the cold weakened her. Aru was a stronger flyer, but I didn’t know what else to do. I could only try.

  We found an updraft where wind met a sheer cliff face and rode it as high as we could, with Keirr adding wingbeats to take full advantage. A flash of lightning revealed the Crag ahead of us, and then swirling currents caught us, pushed us toward the mountain. “HAI!” I shouted, and Keirr rowed harder. It was too dark to see, but the rain and wind devoured Keirr’s clicks. She roared, but I heard no echoes. Did she? I listened, thinking that Aru would have to roar as well in order to navigate, but I heard nothing. Only wind and rain, and the creak of leather.

  Another bolt of lightning revealed the Crag again, but now behind us, and the peak of Zurvaan above in rain-blurred relief. We hadn’t been so high since our first flight, riding the Morningtide. The gale pushed us upward, but we were far closer to the mountain than I’d imagined. Black night swallowed us again. I steered Keirr away from the peak as best I could. Swirls of wet air caught us, spun us. Keirr chirped in fear, and I clung to the harness desperately. “Oh Gods, baby!”

  Lightning flashed again, but we saw only the nearest arm of the bolt, swallowed above and below in the fog of rain. Keirr gave out a sharp chirp, almost a honk, and I heard an echo answer only an instant later. She repeated it, and the answer came sooner still. I hunkered down and bent my legs tight against the laces, closed my eyes in fear. We hit the rock wall hard, but Keirr was ready for it. All four legs compressed to absorb the impact as her wings drew down a countering stroke. I grunted with the impact. Keirr scrabbled for a moment before her talons found purchase.

  I had no idea where we were. The fog crackled with light around us but revealed no detail farther away than the span of Keirr’s wings. I couldn’t feel my ears or my fingertips. The wind buffeted us. Keirr pulled her wings tight, but I sensed her struggle to maintain even that tight frame. I touched my bond mark—my shared bond mark—and knew Aru wasn’t far.

  We clung there for what felt like an hour, until the downpour relented, and the clouds began to break apart. When dawn slit the eastern horizon like a crimson blade, Zurvaan emerged through rifts in the clouds above us, bloodied by the first light.

  We saw Darian and Aru then, rising on the eastern side of the peak in the updraft Darian had told me about. Doing exactly what he said he would do. Impossibly small against that sheer pinnacle, they climbed. Their shadow indicated when they soared, when Aru ran up the face. They crawled the last few yards to the stony point, then Aru spread his wings, caught the fountain of air rising from the west, and soared higher still.

  I huddled on Keirr’s back with my hands in my armpits, shivering with the cold, with undeniable envy and with anger. “You did it, Dare,” I said into the biting wind. “By Korruzon, you did it. Damn you, you selfish monster, you did it.”

  They wheeled to the north, winking bright against the dark clouds above, then glided down and beyond Zurvaan’s northern limb.

  Keirr shivered too, and I knew there was no way we could follow. I pressed my cheek to her neck.

  “Home, Keirr. Go home.”

  “Buk Buk!” she said, looking back at me. “Boi!”

  I sobbed and wrapped my arms around her neck.

  “They’re gone, baby. They’re gone.”

  FORTY-TWO

  WHEN I RETURNED to the compound, Father had Shuja under the jib, saddle in place, with large travel satchels hanging from the jib arm and more on the paving, ready to be stowed. Tauman and Jhem dropped additional bags and started my way. Rov and Cairek stood off to one side. Addai and Bellua were the last persons I wanted to see when I came home, but they were there too. Someone had raised the alar
m.

  When I dismounted, Jhem threw a blanket over my shoulders. She produced a cup of hot broth from somewhere and pressed it into my hands. I swallowed it eagerly.

  Father put his face directly in front of mine. “Tell me what you know.”

  I gestured with the cup toward his gear. “What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing? Tell me what you know!”

  I looked at all the expectant faces. Took a breath. I didn’t want to say a word about Darian’s reasons for leaving or his anger toward me. Not with Addai and Bellua standing here. So I kept to simple facts. “Darian and Aru climbed to the peak of Zurvaan and caught the updraft there. I saw him, but I wasn’t able to follow. He went north as far as I could tell, but he could have gone any direction after that. I don’t know.”

  “To the top of Zurvaan?”

  I nodded.

  “By the Avar, I knew that dragon was special.”

  “Most of his clothes are missing,” said Jhem, “including his winter coat and leggings.”

  “His bow and gear are gone too,” Tauman added.

  A deep crease bent Father’s brow. “Gold removed from the strongbox. Kaisi reports food missing from her larder. With that as a hint we discovered packages of meat missing from the ice vaults, too. All the fattiest cuts of meat, best suited for travel. He left a mess behind him, but he knew what to take. He’d planned this for a while.”

  “Why would the boy abandon his obligations here?” said Addai, hands behind his back, his chin up, his beady eyes sharp in the matrix of gravings.

  My cheeks sagged, and I opened my mouth to answer, but Bellua caught my eye, looking at me with the barest shake of his head and a finger to his lips. Don’t speak, don’t expose what you did. Why would he cover for me? Why protect me now, after all the misery he’d caused? I didn’t trust him, but I closed my mouth. Remembering his earlier admonishment, I pulled the tie out of my hair and let my ponytail fall out.

  “He may return yet,” said Tauman. “Aru is a growing dragon. He’ll need feeding, and Darian didn’t take enough food with him to get very far.”