by T M Miller
It must have been in the dying hours of the night when, despite his fears and discomfort, the boy at last fell into an exhausted, fitful sleep.
It seemed no time at all before something dripping on his face woke him. His eyelids fluttered and he let out a desperate groan. Still half-asleep he raised a hand and liquid dropped onto it. Water. Now wide awake, Jaron sat up as quickly as his stiff, cold body and sore ribs would allow. He had difficulty focusing at first and rubbed at his eyes. When he dropped his hands, it was to cringe away. The firedrake was standing right over him and Jaron scrabbled across the rock on his backside, raising little dust clouds, desperate to put some distance between them. A silver claw hooked into his belt and yanked him forward again, lifting his body clean off the ground as it did so. Jaron cried out in fear and wriggled frantically, his hands batting weakly at the claw. The blue’s mouth came closer and grunted as Jaron’s boot struck the sensitive nose. The claw released him but now a heavy paw landed on the boy’s chest, pinning him down. Jaron groaned in terror and pain. The firedrake eyed him then rolled its head to one side. Water dribbled out of the side of its mouth. A few trickles landed on Jaron’s face and his body’s need took over as he forgot his fear and eagerly opened his mouth to catch the precious liquid. Swallowing was painful at first but the more water the blue trickled into his mouth the more Jaron’s throat was eased. He choked, and the blue lifted his paw.
Jaron sat up, wiping at his mouth. Beast and boy stared at each other, Jaron hardly believing what the beast had just done. It was certainly intelligent and now more than ever he had to believe it was not going to hurt him.
The sun’s rays were slanting across the ledge and Jaron, desperate for warmth, risked crawling to the light. The firedrake didn’t follow him but sat on its haunches, watching his progress. Once he was in the sun Jaron looked around for a possible escape route now he could see better. Sheer rock towered above, and when he moved closer to the edge to peer down it was more of the same.
Feeling hopeless, Jaron scooted away from the edge and, settling his back against the rock, undid his helmet and took it off. Turning his face to the weak early morning warmth, he studied the landscape. The forest stretched out as far as the eye could see with the mountains he had looked at last night now a purple haze in the distance. Nothing looked at all familiar.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the firedrake shuffle closer. Alarmed, he half turned to look at it fully. It cocked its head at him and lowered its haunches to sit up again. Jaron watched warily, noticing the slash on the belly that Channon’s claw had caused yesterday.
The blue rumbled and dropped down on all fours. It stepped over to him and Jaron started in alarm. Keeping its head low it slunk closer still and the boy got unsteadily to his feet. He tried to take a sidestep away, but in his weakness stumbled over a stone. In an instant the blue was there, thrusting its head and neck between him and the edge. Jaron’s flailing hand landed on a neck scale and, regaining his balance, the boy cringed away, stepping back as he frowned at the firedrake. It had just saved him from going over the edge. He shook his head in disbelief.
The beast crouched down and rumbled at him. Jaron recognised the pose. ‘I’m not getting on your back, alright?’ he croaked. The blue shifted its body closer and Jaron edged away along the rock face. ‘No!’ he shook his head and tried to sound firm about it but now the firedrake’s body was alongside him, pressing him back until cold stone dug into his shoulders. Its body remained hemming him in. There was nowhere to go with the head at one end and a raised tail at the other. Jaron sighed. How else was he going to get off this ledge? But it was best to let the blue know he wasn’t completely weak and feeble, or at least try to. The blue’s head lifted over its wing to look down at him.
‘No,’ he repeated, though his knees were quaking. He even tried making his voice deeper, as he had sometimes used with Caliber. ‘I said, NO!’ For the first time he dared to back it up with a wave of mental command.
At this, the firedrake quickly shuffled round and stood up on its hind legs, facing him. It cocked its head and huffed as the purple eyes stared into his. Its forelegs reached out for him, claws opening.
Jaron screeched and ducked out from under them, stumbling along the ledge. The blue snaked its head after him. After a moment he stopped, realising it was insane to try to get away from the firedrake here – there was nowhere to go. As he turned the blue rose up in front of him again, front paws reaching and claws open.
‘Alright!’ He put his hands up, admitting defeat. His ribs were sore enough without being clasped to its chest again.
The blue immediately dropped down on all fours and looked expectantly at him.
He took a reluctant step towards the beast; the way this thing flew he doubted he could stay on – and would it just let him fall? He had to trust it but even to touch it was hard. As he neared its shoulder it turned its head towards him. Slowly he raised a hand and laid it on the blue scales, watching the firedrake’s reaction. Its purple eyes stared at him but it didn’t move. Jaron carefully laid his other hand on the shoulder ridge and stepped closer. The beast stayed stock still as Jaron lifted a leg to get a toehold.
It was smaller than Channon and only half the size of Madrag, but without any straps to grab hold of he struggled to get on and fell back. He froze then, worried lest the blue would take fright at his sudden fall and attack him. It merely watched him, long ears pricked. He got back up, groaning, and tried again. It didn’t lift its leg like the Raken firedrake did for their riders and he lost his toehold and slipped down to land in a crumpled heap on the floor, clutching at his ribs. The third time he struggled, exhausted, the blue, which still had its head turned to watch his progress, pushed him from behind with its nose. A startled cry of fear left his lips as he fell forward against its stomach. Next moment it had snaked its nose under his bottom, and Jaron gasped as he was lifted up, his hands walking up the side of the beast as his feet dangled. A sudden push forced him to swing a leg over or else flip over the other side.
Now sitting astride its back, he sat up cautiously. The blue looked at him with one eye and rumbled. Jaron thought it sounded happy.
‘Take me back?’ Jaron asked. ‘Please?’ The blue rumbled again in answer and moved to the edge. Jaron eyed the drop below. ‘By all the fates,’ he muttered under his breath, and grasped hold of the neck ridge as he crouched down on the beast’s back.
The blue boosted straight off without even opening its wings first and Jaron gasped and hid his face from the wind, concentrating on trying to keep his grip. His scalp prickled and he realised, too late, he had forgotten his helmet. Under an armpit, he saw blue silver-laced wings flapping much quicker than Channon’s did. He caught sight of the forest below flashing by in a blur, the speed of the beast preventing him from even trying to see if he recognized anything. In a short time, the force became too great. Jaron had no saddle and his body was inexorably pushed back towards the tail. His bruised ribs protested under the strain of his stretch as one by one his fingers began to lose their hold.
‘Slow down!’ he gasped. The wind tore his words away, but incredibly the beast immediately tilted its wings back and slowed its pace. It turned its head to look back at Jaron, who shifted himself forward and brought his knees up when he got closer to the base of the neck. The blue hovered, waiting for him, and after a moment’s hesitation he carefully hooked his legs over the front of the wings. Peering down to the forest below, Jaron gulped. It was precarious but it might stop him slipping out over the back end. He heard the blue rumble. ‘Good boy,’ he couldn’t believe he was speaking to his abductor but if he could just get the beast on his side…
The blue moved forward again, more carefully this time, and they flew over the forest at normal firedrake pace. Jaron squinted into the wind and saw they were heading for the distant mountain range, the peaks glowing white in the morning sun. He tightened his grip on the raised scale and scrabbled his dangling feet until they found t
he points of the blue’s shoulders, which he found were handy foot rests. The long ears, longer than the Raken firedrake, rippled back towards him and he thought they looked like possible reins if he only had the courage to grab them. The fear of being thrown off kept his hands where they were. He did dare to experiment with his weight though, trying to turn the firedrake. Nothing happened. He tried to still his nerves and mentally ‘push’ out at the beast as he had done when riding feisty young horses, but the blue juddered its wings and shook its head. Jaron sat tight after that, realising there was nothing he could do now he was at the whim of this strange beast.
The forest eventually gave way to mountains and the blue took him over the first jagged line of the range, then dipped down and flew in a pass above a grey tumbling river that bubbled and broiled over the mountain rocks that had been flung in its path. For a long while the blue followed the water, flying sideways through the gaps where the mountains pressed close.
Jaron crouched low, his arms wrapped around the neck after the first sideways flight; although the pressure seemed to seal him in place, he didn’t trust the fact he wouldn’t slide off. It was terrifying to see the rock face sheet by, hemming them in. He turned to rest his cheek on the hard scales and watched the blue’s wing on that side, raised up and rigid. It was a strange shape for a firedrake’s wing, shorter and broader before tapering down into a narrow tip. It reminded Jaron again of a falcon. There was a sudden shift as the firedrake cornered on its wingtip and Jaron’s stomach gave a sickening lurch. He peered anxiously ahead through the rippling ears.
They were rounding a bend, and Jaron gasped. Carved into the mountain was what looked like a stone fortress. As they got nearer Jaron could see huge columns rising up against the mountain, hewed from the rock itself. The blue angled its wings to fly higher and Jaron saw an archway directly on their flight path with a dark mouth beyond. Jaron sat up, studying the stronghold. As they flew nearer, he froze.
Two firedrake were watching them, he saw, one each side of the entrance, crouched on separate stone columns. They had no riders and looked odd somehow. As the blue neared Jaron realized their scales were black and red, a colouring Jaron had never seen before. They raised their necks and bugled in unison. Apprehension rose anew in the boy’s chest. As they got closer to the fortress mouth he saw it was huge, nearly as big as the entrance to Mount Scarf. He stared in fear at the two lookouts; they didn’t take to the wing but returned his stare with strange glowing white eyes. He would have thought them blind if they weren’t looking right at him. Jaron looked away, into the blackness. It seemed impenetrable and as the blue flew into it a cold blanket prickled the hairs on the back of his neck. He shivered and tried to peer ahead through the gloom.
The blue flew through a tunnel until Jaron saw there was light up ahead, an orange glow, and his fear grew at the sight of it. They flew around a bend and into the light, and his heart quailed.
They had entered a vast cavern, with ledges etched into the walls. It was lit by huge torches that rose from the floor on stone towers, the flames burning in iron-wrought nests. More beasts hung from the walls like bats, or crouched on the crumbling stone shelves half-hidden in shadow, heads turning as one to look at them as they passed by, orbs of white eyes shining like hard ice. Jaron, terrified, saw firedrake bodies everywhere; they covered the entire hall from the floor below to the rib-vaulted ceiling high above.
An acrid smell filled his nostrils and he recognised it as firedrake breath. A chorus of growls and roaring calls rose as the blue flew further in, deafening Jaron. It didn’t sound to him like they were calls of welcome and he tried to melt into the blue’s neck. They flew along the length of the huge cavern and some of the firedrake flapped over to fly beside them. He saw there were no greens nor solid reds here. They were all mottled in black and red like night and fire. Their ghostly eyes fixed on him and one snapped at the blue as it passed close, its jaws drooling, causing Jaron’s mount to squeak and duck away. Jaron’s intense fear kept him from crying out for he sensed he was prey here. He kept still, a rabbit once again, his heart hammering in his chest.
More of the firedrake took off and wheeled in a dizzying circle, Jaron and the blue hemmed in their midst by the flapping wings. Through his terror Jaron looked down and saw a wide stone plinth rising from the centre of the floor; the only way off by foot was one stone bridge that stretched away into darkness. The blue fluttered down to land directly in its centre. It furled its wings and crouched in a defensive position, cawing in fear up at the whirling pool of firedrake that still flew tight around them. Jaron kept low and tightened his grip on the blue’s neck. He felt it trembling as much as he was and the thought came into his mind that he should have thrown himself off the ledge last night while he had the chance.
‘Leave him!’ a deep voice shouted. Weighted with authority, it echoed off the walls of the hall and instantly the firedrake flapped away. Returning to their perches, every glowing eye turned to fix on the plinth. Jaron sat up cautiously, looking for the source of the voice. A figure was walking along the stone bridge towards them. He wore a flying helmet and jacket much like the Raken and a small stab of hope found its way through Jaron’s fear. The discontented rumbles of the firedrake were accompanied by the man’s boots thudding on the stone bridge. He raised an arm and instantly all the firedrake went quiet. Jaron watched him approach. Something about the proud bearing, the way the man walked, seemed familiar.
The blue gave a reedy squeak and placed its chin on the floor as the figure neared. ‘You have done well, Skite,’ the man’s voice was deep. ‘Although I expected you last night.’ Something in it, a hint of steel, made Jaron sit up even as his mount cringed lower.
‘Who are you?’ Jaron found his voice. ‘And why am I here?’
The man came closer before answering until he stood at Jaron’s knee. He looked up at him and Jaron noticed the eyes under the helmet were silver-blue. They searched his face like they were drinking it in. Jaron bore the scrutiny, refusing to look away. The chin was strong, if the cheeks a little hollow, the mouth a thin line. The eyes seemed to soften slightly as the man peeled back his lips.
‘Well met, young Jaron.’
‘You know who I am?’ Jaron asked. ‘I don’t know you.’
‘Of course, but we have not met before. That was not of my choosing. You were taken from me, stolen in fact.’
Jaron stared and the man hesitated for just a moment before removing his helmet. His hair was shoulder length, brown shot through with grey. The face was a startling white, and the strange silver eyes, much like his own silver-blue, gleamed from sunken dark sockets above a straight, sculpted nose and strong jaw. The man searched Jaron’s face with intensity and suddenly Jaron knew who it was the man reminded him of: Lord Carna, Jaron’s uncle – and this man’s brother. With a sinking heart he swallowed against the horror that now clenched his throat. ‘You’re Torrit,’ he croaked.
The thin mouth widened into a delighted smile. ‘Yes, you are most welcome, Jaron.’ A heavy hand landed on his knee. Jaron cringed but the man didn’t seem to notice and continued to stare up at him, smiling.
‘You sent the blue to get me.’ Jaron stated it as fact.
The man smiled. ‘He was a little slow about it,’ he cast a withering glance at the blue who squeaked nervously. ‘But he is my fastest firedrake, the most intelligent, the only one who could go into Rakenar and out again without being caught.’ He paused, his stare hungry. ‘And now, at last, here you are, where you belong – with me.’ His eyes became moist. ‘My son,’ he said and at the same time reached out and grasped Jaron’s arm, pulling him from the blue’s back to envelop him in a suffocating hug.
Jaron, stunned, sagged limply in his father’s arms since they were the only thing stopping him from crumbling to the ground.
23
After a moment, Jaron managed to recover from his shock enough to squirm, and Torrit’s arms fell away. Jaron stepped back. The silver eyes flared for an inst
ant before the man smiled again.
‘You need time to get to know me; we have that now, at long last. Come. You need a change of clothes and some food inside you. I expect it has been rather traumatic.’ He led the way off the plinth. Jaron looked after him, then up at all the watching firedrake. The blue nudged him in the back. He staggered, and reluctantly followed. The man turned back and his eyes fell on Jaron’s uneven gait. ‘Skite, bring him,’ he waved a hand as he turned and Jaron’s knees gave way as the blue’s nose pushed into the back of his legs. With a cry, he fell backwards. Suddenly he was being lifted, arms flailing, sliding backwards over the blue’s head. Gasping, he found himself sitting astride the neck just behind the blue’s head. The blue raised it and Jaron slid further down, his bottom bumping uncomfortably over the raised neck plates while his hands grappled for purchase. He came to a stop at the base of its neck and sat up, smacking the blue with his hand. ‘I hate you,’ he muttered to it. The blue cocked an ear back at him and trotted after its master along the bridge, wings half held up.