by T M Miller
A mountain breeze ruffled his hair and Jaron filled his lungs with the clear air. It felt good to be out of his cave. He spied two green firedrake on the valley floor, and a small group of people by the river close by where it widened into the lake. The firedrakes’ wings were furled and they were so far below him he found he could relax. One of the firedrake lumbered into the lake and flapped its wings as it bathed until it was joined by the other. The people sat on the bank to watch them.
Just then, he caught sight of more firedrake flying in from between the mountain peaks with their riders. Hurriedly throwing aside the blanket he stood up and limped inside.
Another week went by. Now his thigh was so much better, Jaron even started to feel a little bored. One afternoon, he managed to get all the way round the walkway before he stopped to rest and leant on the railing.
‘Hello.’ The voice made him jump and he looked both ways along the walkway but there was no one around. There came a giggle, a girl’s giggle. ‘Up here,’ the voice called. He looked up – and gasped.
A firedrake was hovering in the air above him, its green head cocked to one side. Jaron registered this and had taken a step back before he caught sight of a girl’s face with a cloud of red hair wafting in the breeze of its wings. She was looking over its shoulder at him. As he stared she grinned and waved. When he didn’t return it, the girl cocked her head much like her firedrake had done and her smile faded a little. Next moment the beast suddenly dipped down, far too close for comfort, its wings flapping heavily.
Terrified fear overrode everything else and instinct kicked in. Jaron hurriedly turned, his hip couldn’t keep up and he stumbled and fell with a cry, banging knees on rock. His stick skittered away and frantically he tried to grab it, his outstretched fingers just missing. Panting, he flipped over and shot a terrified look up at the firedrake.
Who now had its foreclaws hooked on the railing, its enormous wings flapping close and hemming him in. He stifled a scream as the luminous reptilian eyes fixed on him. The beast cocked its head again and rumbled.
‘Oh, scorching scales! I’m so sorry!’ The girl was sliding down the beast’s shoulder, she stepped onto her firedrake’s foreleg and, with complete disregard for the long drop directly below her, swung herself easily over the railing.
The firedrake rumbled again, peeled away, and flew upwards. Jaron tore his eyes away from the beast to find the girl was now crouched directly in front of him, studying him with wide violet eyes, her face a patchwork of freckles.
‘We didn’t mean to startle you,’ she said, and put out a helping hand.
He didn’t take it, too caught up with trying to still his hammering heart. ‘My stick,’ he panted.
She cast about, saw it laying behind her, and reached over to retrieve it. Jaron silently took it from her, his face hot now with embarrassment and shame. With one hand on the wall and the other pressing on his stick for leverage, he managed to get to his feet, ignoring again her outstretched hand. He cast a wary look up and saw the firedrake above, hanging like an enormous bat from a rocky ledge. When he lowered his gaze, it was to see the girl standing directly in front of him.
She was a bit taller than him and wore a sleeveless tunic that revealed tanned and surprisingly well-muscled arms. He stared at her, his anger dribbling away at the worried frown on her face. Her gaze shifted slightly in a way he was well-practiced with and he felt his cheeks flush even hotter, glad he had his neck scarf on at least. She unexpectedly grinned, revealing dimples amongst her freckles. ‘I’m Marla,’ she said.
‘Jaron.’
Her look turned sheepish. ‘Sorry about that.’
‘I just fell,’ he lied.
‘My fault.’ She stuck out her hand again, and this time he took it, noticing the roughness of her palm and strong grip. She pulled her hand away a bit too soon. ‘Jaron,’ she tried his name out and glanced down at his stick. ‘You must be the boy who was nearly killed by the mountain men.’
Jaron nodded, surprised. ‘You heard about that?’ he asked.
‘Everyone has, our Lord Carna rescued you. You’re the rider of the carnivorous horses.’
‘Yes, a race rider.’ Jaron was distracted by her comment: everyone knew of him. ‘And they’re called kelpra.’
‘Unpredictable beasts, my father said.’
Jaron stared at her. ‘Much like your firedrake, then.’
‘At least they’re loyal,’ Marla shot back.
‘The kelpra I was riding, Caliber, he saved my life, I would say that’s being pretty loyal.’
‘Where is he now?’ she asked and he shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’ He glanced anxiously up at the firedrake again and when he looked back her rather direct stare made him peer down at his boots.
‘I’m sure he’ll just go wild,’ he heard her say. ‘I’ll walk with you, if you like. It must be pretty boring on your own like this.’
They started to walk and although she was two strides in front straight away she soon slowed her walk to match his. She was on his scar side, he realised – but although she glanced at his cheek once more she kept her eyes forward after that.
‘I suppose Rakenar is quite different from the south?’ she asked after a moment.
Jaron nodded. ‘Tiara is an old trading city.’
‘Tiara,’ she tried out the name. ‘Sounds like a jewel.’
‘I suppose it is, it’s known as the jewel of the Corelands for its trading. They produce beef and grain there.’
‘Oh, they’re farmers then.’
The way she said it annoyed him a little, as if she thought less of them for it. ‘I believe Rakenar has benefited from their grain.’
She shrugged and gave him a sideways look. ‘Quite a change for you here, then.’
Jaron sought to divert her. ‘What did you say your firedrake’s name was?’
‘Channon, but she’s not mine. I’m not really supposed to be flying out alone yet.’
‘Oh?’
‘No, new riders attend flying school then choose their firedrake.’
Despite himself, Jaron found this snippet of information interesting. Nobody had really divulged much about Rakenar life to him. ‘Is everybody in Rakenar a flyer?’ he asked.
Marla shook her thick hair. ‘The riders live in the mountains once they win their own firedrake, but they can have close family in with them. It’s difficult moving around here if you don’t fly so some families choose to stay where they are, in villages just behind here. The workers for Rakenar live there as well.’
Jaron thought it sounded a bit harsh. ‘It must be hard for the families to be separated.’
Marla looked at him in surprise. ‘No, it’s a great honour to become a flyer, every family is proud.’
‘So, you’re living here? In the mountain?’ he asked.
She shook her head. ‘Just exploring. I’m in training so I’m at Mount Treen.’ Her face cracked into a wide smile. ‘I’ve been flying two weeks, and it’s brilliant! I’ve even done a Rickral manoeuvre.’ To his puzzled look she stopped and turned to face him, putting her hands up level with her face. ‘You go up high,’ she soared with her flattened hand, ‘then Channon folds her wings in and you drop!’ She swept her hand down fast in front of Jaron’s face, who blinked. ‘She spins, and you have to hold on really tight and keep your head to pull out of it.’ She dropped her hands and stood smiling at him. ‘Parl, he’s the instructor, said I did it brilliantly, I’m the only one so far out of the group he’s trusted to try it.’ She lifted her chin proudly.
‘Err, great, well done,’ Jaron said, and resumed walking.
She fell into step beside him again. ‘It was over the lake, of course, in case I lost her, but still. You’ve ridden a firedrake too, haven’t you?’
Jaron looked at her in disbelief. ‘I haven’t.’
‘Yes, you have, and Lord Carna’s Madrag too. What an honour that must have been,’ her eyes went dreamy. ‘To ride the red beast…’
‘I was
unconscious most of the time. I don’t really remember it.’ He reached his tunnel entrance and paused, relieved to have made it without asking Marla to stop and wait for him. ‘This is me.’
‘Oh, right! Well, nice to meet you,’ she grinned at him, showing those dimples again, and he found himself smiling back. ‘If I’m around I’ll come and see you, would that be alright?’
For a moment, he hesitated. But he hadn’t spoken to anybody his own age since coming here. ‘I would like that very much.’
‘Alright then,’ she said, and brought her fingers to her mouth. Her high-pitched whistle was answered by a snort and suddenly there was the green beast, sweeping down towards them.
Jaron hurriedly backed into his entrance. ‘Bye then,’ his words came out in a rush and by the time she had turned back to him he had been swallowed up into the blessed darkness of the tunnel. He didn’t immediately turn away to go through to his cave, but watched, hidden, as Channon hovered before the girl, claws gripping the railing.
‘Clever girl, beautiful girl,’ he heard Marla say and saw her step forward and reach up to rub her hand down the long scaly nose. The firedrake’s luminous eyes softened as she nudged the girl gently with her nose and breathed over her, causing her heavy mane of hair to lift.
Jaron turned away. The way the firedrake had nudged at her reminded him of Caliber when he was enjoying a stroke. Marla must think him a coward. Sudden, angry tears of shame filled his eyes. For the first time, Jaron regretted his fear of these beasts. He rubbed at his eyes as he moved along the short tunnel. Pulling the curtain aside, he froze.
His mother and the Raken lord stood close together in his room, framed by the light of the open double doors as they faced each other.
Something about the way they were looking at each other, engrossed even, disturbed Jaron and he chewed his bottom lip as he stared. At the same moment, both became aware of his presence and took a hurried step back.
‘Jaron,’ Rella said as she turned to him with a bright smile. It immediately faded on seeing his face. ‘Are you alright, son?’ But Jaron had seen the flushed look on her face, the shining eyes just a moment before – and sudden jealous anger fired in his chest.
‘I want to leave,’ he stated in a flat tone.
‘Leave?’
‘Yes, back to Tiara, I’m well enough.’
‘I’m not ready to leave yet, Jaron.’ She shot a worried frown over to Carna.
‘I’m not asking you to come with me.’ Jaron swallowed as the anger he had felt but a moment before drained away. ‘I know you’re happy here.’ He wondered if she knew how much that had cost him.
She did. In three strides, her arms went around him, pressing his face to her chest. He sagged against her, his anger dribbling away. ‘Mum,’ he whispered. ‘I can’t stay here.’
He felt her chin against his hair. ‘You belong here, Jaron. As do I.’ Her voice was strained.
‘I don’t, Mum. I’m sorry, but I can’t get past it.’
Carna spoke then. ‘Do you want to? Get past it, Jaron?’ The lord stepped closer.
Jaron wished he would go away, this was between his mother and him. Yet the question made him hesitate.
His mother’s eyes were shining with tears. ‘I won’t let you go back alone, but I won’t lie to you either. Rakenar is my home and I don’t want to leave it again,’ she took a deep breath. ‘It could be your home too, Jaron.’
He saw the hope in her eyes. It was turning out as he had feared. Either way, he had asked her to make a sacrifice.
Carna came to stand beside his mother. ‘Do you want to get past this fear?’ he repeated. ‘We will help you, Jaron, but you have to want to do it.’ His voice was clear and determined, but Jaron saw his mother’s fingers lightly touch the lord’s arm, seeking comfort.
He turned away and gazed out onto the mountains as he considered. He wanted to stay where his mother was, he knew that much. The loss of Teel had kept mother and son close and since his stepfather’s death all her concentration had been on getting him better. He knew it would make her happiness complete if he would only take this last step in shaking off the past. He remembered her words back at the lake. It was one rogue firedrake, Jaron. The firedrake had saved him from the Ernots and saved Caliber. He wouldn’t be here otherwise and they had spared Rella a lifetime of pain. It occurred to him that he hadn’t had one nightmare concerning the firedrake since he had been here. Yet he doubted his ability to get past his fears. Coward, he berated himself and remembered how he had felt on the walkway, the shame. He turned back to his mother.
‘I don’t belong here.’
Her reply was fierce. ‘You do, you have Raken blood. You know that.’
Jaron spread his hands. ‘From you, Mum, yes, but you never told me who he was.’
‘You never asked. I thought with Teel you didn’t feel a need to know.’
‘I’m asking now.’
He saw her body tense and she shot a look at Carna beside her. The lord nodded. Suddenly, Jaron thought he knew the answer and felt sick. It was so obvious really, only he had denied facing it. He swallowed. ‘Are you saying…?’ He couldn’t finish.
But she was shaking her head no. Jaron felt such relief wash over him he nearly had to sit down. Of course not, he was a lord. How stupid.
‘He’s your uncle, Jaron.’
‘I’m sorry?’
Carna stepped closer and his eyes were shining with something Jaron couldn’t read. ‘I’m your uncle, Jaron. Torrit was my elder brother, and you are his son.’
Then Jaron did sit down on his bed. His mother was beside him in an instant. She took his cold hand in both of hers and clasped it tight. The cave was quiet as they gave him time to digest this news. Torrit, he had a name. His father was Torrit. And Carna, lord of all Rakenar, was his uncle.
‘What was he like? My… father?’ The word sounded strange on his lips.
It was Carna who answered. ‘Very much like me, same build. The elder by three years. We – I miss him.’ Deep sorrow etched into the Raken lord’s face.
Rella stroked Jaron’s fringe back with gentle fingers. ‘We will talk more of him later.’
For a fleeting moment Jaron wondered why she didn’t use his name, Torrit – my father – but she was still talking and he tried to focus.
‘Now, I want you to answer Carna’s question. Will you stay, Jaron, and do as your uncle asked, will you try to conquer your fear, give the firedrake a chance? For me?’
Her son stared at her then at Carna. Uncle. The question didn’t seem as important as it had five minutes ago and he wondered at his mother asking it again now. Dumbly, he nodded. Her face burst into a radiant smile. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered and kissed his cheek as she stood.
Carna was smiling, a rare sight. It made him look younger. ‘There is nothing to fear from our firedrake,’ he said. ‘I will help you in this.’
Jaron stared up at him uncomprehendingly. He couldn’t get his head round him being his uncle. He looked down at his hands, wishing Carna would leave. When he lifted his head, it was to find he had got his wish – only his mother had left too, and while there were still questions forming on his lips.
12
As the shadows across the mountains lengthened, and the summer afternoon sun sank lower in the sky, it was not his mother who came but Carna, and not by the usual method either.
‘Jaron?’
Looking up, the boy saw the huge red hovering just beyond his ledge. The firedrake’s red scales took on a phoenix fire in the setting sun, which served to make the yellow eyes even more brilliant as they locked on to him. Jaron swallowed from where he sat on the edge of his bed, his fingers pulling the blanket up into his clenched fists. His pride kept him rooted; he would not allow Carna to witness his fear. My uncle.
‘May we land?’ Carna called. Jaron thought he had misheard him. What was Carna thinking of? But in the next instant he knew exactly; his ‘help’ was about to begin.
He stood u
p and gave a short nod. That was enough for Carna’s sharp eyes and Jaron watched as the beast lifted up and turned his massive body sideways to descend, hovering, onto the ledge. Jaron’s hair lifted as the throbbing wind from the red’s wings rushed into the cave.
The firedrake touched down with no room to spare and his rider threw a leg over and slid down his shoulder to his raised leg. The huge red furled his wings on the ledge and found the space to swing his head round on its long neck to watch as his rider walked into the cave and across to where Jaron stood. The boy wondered if Lord Carna could see the fear that must show in his eyes.
‘Well met, Jaron,’ the lord said. Jaron gave a slight bow, his gaze never leaving the firedrake.
‘Have you seen my mother?’
‘She is resting. Your mother needs some time as well, Jaron.’ Carna pulled off his riding gloves as he spoke then slapped his gloves against his thigh, making Jaron jump. ‘I thought you would like to spend a little time with Madrag here, and I’ll answer any questions you might have.’
‘About my father?’
A look of pain crossed the lord’s face. ‘No, Jaron, I meant about the firedrake.’
‘Oh, right.’ Jaron hesitated and cast an apprehensive look at the huge beast, who rumbled from deep within his bright blue chest.
‘That,’ Carna said, ‘is how they say hello; a firedrake will often greet his rider this way. Sometimes they will rumble at the rider’s close friends or family, those who it knows and likes. It is very unusual for them to greet a stranger this way, as Madrag just did to you.’
‘Lucky me,’ Jaron replied.
‘Now, come a little closer.’ The lord stepped towards Madrag and held out a hand to Jaron, who hesitated.
‘Isn’t lesson one moving a little bit fast here?’ he muttered. To his surprise, Carna laughed, a deep rolling sound. His hand beckoned but Jaron stood rooted. ‘Perhaps I need a green one, you know, a bit smaller?’