Dragon Daughter

by Liz Flanagan

  ‘There’s so much we have to learn about them, Your Grace,’ Isak intervened diplomatically, tucking Belara under his jacket, out of sight. ‘This archive is superb.’ He sounded different, all flattering and eager. ‘It must cover all aspects of dragonlore!’

  Milla watched Isak trying to placate the duke, puzzled. Then she realised: Isak loved books. Isak in a library was like a hungry child in a bakery.

  ‘That’s right. It does,’ the duke told Isak. Then he picked up the book Milla had dropped and put it back on the shelf, patting the leather spine gently.

  ‘Of course I don’t blame you, Vigo.’ The duke came closer. Perhaps he hadn’t slept either. His face looked grey in the faint dawn light. ‘Of course you must learn about them. In fact, I was going to suggest the same thing.’ He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

  Isak looked like he’d been offered a feast.

  Milla listened hard, waiting for his meaning to become clear.

  ‘You are all most welcome here in my palace,’ Duke Olvar went on. ‘Dragons need space, heat, food – where else would they live? The dragonhall was built for the purpose. And you’ve found the archive I was going to show you …’

  ‘We can stay here? Thank you, Your Grace,’ Isak said.

  Milla saw Nestan and Richal Finn exchange a glance at the duke’s words.

  Milla was struggling to keep up. ‘But … m-m-my job … my home … What will happen—?’ she stuttered. Speaking to the duke made her feel clumsy and stupid.

  ‘Everything has changed. You have a new job now.’ Duke Olvar reached past Vigo, towards Milla. ‘And a new home.’

  She didn’t dare move. With one hand, she cupped Iggie’s head, while the other supported his tail.

  ‘Whatever anyone else might think …’ he tried again. ‘That is, this dragon …’ He reached out a finger and touched Iggie’s back.

  She licked her dry lips. ‘Iggie, Your Grace.’

  She wasn’t keen on that hungry look in the duke’s eyes, but she stood her ground, even though her skin itched at his proximity. Of all the things that had happened since last night, this felt the most unreal. She was standing here, talking to the duke himself about what her dragon needed.

  ‘Iggie then. He chose you.’ He uttered each word slowly and clearly, as if she were a very young child. ‘Do you want him to have the best care?’

  ‘Of course, Your Grace,’ she whispered.

  ‘Then he needs to stay here. Where else can the dragons be hidden, for their own protection?’

  ‘Hidden? But—’ Milla began, watching her dreams of introducing Iggie to Josi, Thom and Rosa fade like sea mist. Instead, she would live here at the palace, amongst all this luxury. ‘I mean, thank you,’ she breathed.

  ‘It’s clear that the dragons must stay here,’ Olvar said. ‘The dragons need you. You stay here, too.’

  ‘Is it? Clear to whom, Olvar?’ Nestan spoke up. He left Richal Finn and walked over to Milla and the twins, his cane tapping lightly on the polished floor. ‘We thank you for your generous offer of hospitality, but these are my children, and they are free citizens of Arcosi, I think.’

  ‘Excuse me, Your Grace,’ Tarya asked, with a quick look at her father. ‘Are you inviting us to stay? Or are you saying we can’t leave?’

  Nestan gently laid one hand on her shoulder, next to Heral’s red back, lending his support to his daughter’s words.

  Clearly unused to being questioned, Duke Olvar glared at Tarya. He cleared his throat, with a deep, guttural cough. ‘As I said, overnight, everything has changed, whether we like it or not. And we must change too, if we are to protect these precious dragons that have been given into our care.’

  ‘Given?’ Tarya cried, then realised who she was speaking to. ‘I’m sorry, Your Grace, but didn’t my father tell you? Someone died for these eggs. Someone gave their life to keep them safe.’

  ‘And that happened very conveniently on the property that you’re so eager to return to, Nestan,’ the duke said, smooth as silk now. ‘Maybe you have other plans for the dragons? Maybe you always did?’ He took a step towards Nestan, then another, so they were facing each other and the tension crackled between them. ‘Did anyone actually see this mysterious victim?’

  Milla blinked. Instead of the duke and Nestan, standing head to head, she was lost in her memories, seeing the cloaked man slumping forwards in a pool of blood.

  ‘Or perhaps you bought these eggs on one of your trading trips and forgot to mention it?’ the duke suggested.

  Milla dipped her chin over Iggie’s head, as if she could protect him from the words tossed back and forth.

  ‘Of course not. Did I not bring them straight to you?’ Nestan said, curtly, matching Duke Olvar’s stare. ‘Have I ever given you reason to doubt my loyalty?’

  Olvar’s gaze shifted to Nestan’s left leg before he could help it, and he flushed.

  Nestan’s injury was a constant reminder to the world of his loyalty to Duke Olvar, and the high cost of that loyalty.

  ‘Don’t ask me why the man chose to deliver the eggs to us,’ Nestan went on. ‘No doubt he was expecting to find the original inhabitants in my house. And we do have a witness. Isn’t that right, Milla?’

  She jumped.

  ‘Is that true?’ Richal Finn’s head snapped up and he stared at her in surprise. She looked down, cheeks warm, praying no one mentioned the rest of the story. The duke wouldn’t like the part about hiding the eggs.

  ‘Well, then perhaps we should be thanking you, for finding the eggs and returning them to their true home. Where they belong. Where they will stay.’ Olvar’s tone turned steely.

  ‘Very well,’ Nestan told Olvar, ‘but I am trusting you to protect them. All of them: all four children, and all four dragons. If anything happens … to any of them’ – he flicked a quick glance at Milla – ‘I will hold you responsible.’

  ‘Nestan, old friend,’ Olvar’s tone changed entirely, as if they hadn’t just been growling at each other. He stepped in to shake his hand. ‘We’re family now. You don’t even need to ask.’

  Milla whispered to Iggie. ‘Hear that, my love? We’re staying.’ Her fingertips lightly stroked his scales, as she looked up at the turret roof of the library, so high above them, at the shafts of golden light slanting down. She felt like a princess in a fairy tale, waking up to a new life. Somewhere deep down, there was a niggle of unease, like a thorn in the sole of her shoe. Like a pea under her mattress. She chose to ignore it. This is where the dragons belonged. Surely she could learn to belong here, too?

  For Iggie’s sake, she had to try.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Milla was dragged from her dream like a fish hooked from the sea. She surfaced, gasping.

  ‘Ouch!’

  She’d been dreaming of sitting in Josi’s kitchen, drinking cinnamon-spiced coffee, sweet and bitter at the same time. The dream faded, leaving a faint aftertaste of homesickness.

  Iggie was sitting on her chest, needling her skin with his claws, like a cat. He blinked his green eyes to greet her.

  ‘Iggie!’ she murmured in delight, half-convinced she was still dreaming.

  Her dragon was perfect. His scales gleamed. Each one was square-ish, outlined in darker blue, flowing down his back like a beautiful tessellated mosaic. His wings were smooth dark sapphire, folded away like bundled silk. He clawed her again, gently.

  ‘I’m awake! Stop it.’ She peered up, and he leant over to drag half a carcass of roast chicken a little nearer. ‘Oh, thanks Ig. Did you bring me breakfast?’ She burst out laughing. ‘You’re getting so strong: it’s nearly as big as you!’

  He flicked his tail from side to side and hissed at her, proudly.

  Her heart swelled with love at the sight of him. Seeing him, touching him, being with him: it made everything feel right. She felt stronger and happier than she had ever been, as if there was a kind of power that spread from Iggie to her and back again.

  ‘Aren’t you hungry? You have th
is. I think I prefer bread.’ She sat up, shredded the meat and fed it to him, smiling as he growled and shook little pieces before he swallowed them. ‘Look at you, getting big and sleek. Am I feeding you too much? How would I know – you’re not going to tell me, are you, greedy dragon?’

  He just pawed her hand for more meat.

  She wished she knew more. She felt drawn to find dragonlore, like a compass needle seeking north. She had been yearning to see Kara again, to say thank you. She couldn’t wait to introduce her to Iggie and see what she would say.

  Iggie finished eating and sneezed, breaking into her thoughts. He jumped down from her bunk, already nimble and astonishingly fast.

  They’d moved into the dragonhall a week ago, once it was clear that baby dragons would smash anything that wasn’t fastened down. Milla was adjusting to the comforts of her life here quicker than she could have imagined. She drew back the curtains of her bunk and hopped out after him.

  In the centre of the dragonhall, like the hub of a wheel, there was a huge cylindrical brick oven that burned night and day, with a perch for the dragons spiralling round it. The high ceiling was inlaid with coloured tiles.

  There were two entrances: the main double doors standing open to let sunlight in, and the secret back door concealed behind a wall hanging. Milla had found it on the day they moved in, but she didn’t tell anyone. That would have meant confessing that she’d seen Kara use it to escape on the night of the duke’s ball. For her sake, she kept it quiet. But how did Kara know of the secret door?

  ‘Morning, Milla.’ Isak and Vigo were drinking coffee: the smell must have crept into her dream.

  ‘Morning.’ Milla flashed a wide grin towards them and helped herself from a basket of fresh rolls. Still warm, and she hadn’t even had to knead the dough herself. Or chop the wood. Or build the fire. She bit into the fresh bread, gratefully.

  Tarya came out to join them, yawning.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Milla asked, as soon as she saw her face. For days, Tarya had seemed restless, like a tethered beast testing the limits of its chain. ‘Is it Heral?’

  But Heral was peacefully snoozing, his red snout resting on Petra’s green back.

  ‘Heral’s fine. I’m fine. I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.’ Tarya glanced quickly at Vigo. ‘All this is so wonderful.’

  Milla couldn’t believe the speed with which the duke had organised everything: builders, carpenters, tailors. All sworn to secrecy and paid double to be sure. She smoothed her blue silk nightclothes with her free hand: still marvelling at their quality.

  ‘It’s just …’ Tarya’s voice faded out. She put her head in her hands, scratching through her curly mass of golden hair. Living indoors, her tanned skin had faded to a pale cream, and she had violet shadows under her eyes from waking in the night to feed Heral.

  ‘Do you miss your dad?’ Milla asked Tarya gently, giving her a quick sideways hug. ‘I miss Josi. I was just dreaming of her.’

  ‘Yes, that must be it. I’m fine,’ Tarya said stiffly. ‘Don’t listen to me.’ She helped herself absently to a bread roll and started pulling it apart.

  Milla watched as Iggie climbed onto the roost and wrapped his blue neck around Belara’s gold one.

  ‘Prrt?’ he greeted Belara, ears pricked in welcome.

  ‘Hey, Iggie,’ Isak said. ‘Look at them. They’re friends, aren’t they?’

  Milla spoke with her mouth full, ‘Uh-huh. I think Belara is his favourite.’

  ‘Well, your Ig has very good taste,’ Isak told her.

  Milla and Isak chatted easily about their dragons’ latest tricks. Milla was glad to see she could still make him laugh with her impression of Iggie stalking pieces of chicken.

  Isak opened his arms, like wings, coming to swoop after her.

  Milla pounced on him, mimicking Iggie, and they fell in the sawdust, giggling.

  Just then, a dark shadow fell across the floor between the open doors of the dragonhall.

  ‘Good morning.’ Duke Olvar’s voice was loud and disapproving.

  ‘Your Grace!’ Isak stopped laughing, rolled to his feet, seized his dragon from her perch and went over to greet the duke, with Belara in his arms.

  If he had a tail, he’d be wagging it, like a puppy trying to please a new master, Milla thought. She scrambled up too, brushing the sawdust from her nightclothes.

  ‘How is she today?’ the duke was asking Isak.

  ‘She’s fine. See?’ Isak lifted Belara up. The golden dragon had long elegant ears and her green eyes were more almond-shaped than Iggie’s. Now she twisted her head away from the duke as if he smelt bad.

  Milla bit her lip so she didn’t laugh.

  ‘How many times did you feed her last night?’ the duke asked.

  ‘Three times, Your Grace. Her appetite increases every day …’ Isak and Duke Olvar discussed every detail of Belara’s diet, while the others waited.

  ‘Well done, Isak,’ Olvar said eventually, laying an approving hand on his shoulder.

  Isak looked delighted, but Belara started crawling over Isak’s shoulder, determined to escape the duke’s inspection.

  Tarya snorted. Then she met Vigo’s eyes, and the two of them started shaking with stifled laughter.

  The duke noticed and spun round, scowling.

  ‘Hear me, all of you. This is a serious business, no laughing matter.’ Olvar’s glance moved round the hall, lingering over each dragon. ‘These dragons are our only concern. Put them first. Forget all else. You aren’t here for your amusement.’ He glared at Milla. ‘You are here for the dragons. And you have work to do.’

  They all froze where they stood, like guilty children caught raiding the honey jar.

  The duke didn’t understand. Milla didn’t need to be told to care for Iggie: it came as naturally as breathing. She bent down to stroke his bright blue head with one finger. This love felt new and so powerful, it scared her. Rising up, with deep certainty, were feelings stronger than anything she had known before. She would fight for him. She would kill to defend him. Already she knew, without doubt, that she would die for him.

  ‘We know, Your Grace,’ Isak said. ‘We’ll get straight back to the library, as soon as the dragons have eaten—’

  ‘Wait a moment,’ Vigo objected. ‘Why do you get to tell us what’s best for our dragons?’

  Milla held her breath as Vigo challenged his father, but Tarya was watching him with something like admiration in her gaze.

  ‘Aren’t they worth it?’ Duke Olvar snapped. ‘Are you so reckless and ungrateful you’d risk your dragon’s life? What if Petra falls ill? How will you know what to do?’

  ‘Of course they’re worth it. Of course we’ll keep reading.’ Vigo raised his voice. ‘But we’re not lazing around out here. We’re caring for them. We’re feeding them. We’re playing with them – don’t they need that too?’ he finished.

  ‘Did you find a scroll saying that?’ Olvar asked, looking down his nose at his son.

  ‘What if the scrolls don’t have all the answers?’ Vigo retorted. ‘What if you trusted us to know what our dragons need?’

  ‘I suppose they need you to roll around in the sawdust too?’ Olvar snapped. ‘Ignoring them?’

  That wasn’t fair! Milla hadn’t been ignoring Iggie – she’d just fed him!

  ‘Get dressed and get to work.’ The duke turned and walked out of the dragonhall.

  There was a long silence.

  Tarya put a hand on Vigo’s arm, making him jump. She smiled at him reassuringly, but he was still frowning at his father’s interruption.

  ‘It’s only because he cares about the dragons,’ Isak said eventually.

  ‘I know, I’m sorry,’ Milla sighed. The thought of the library made her feel daunted. ‘I’ll do my part. It’s just’ – she felt ashamed as she confessed – ‘I can’t read as fast as you.’

  ‘It is slow going,’ Isak said. ‘Too slow.’

  ‘How can you say that? You’re the fastest!’ Tarya tol
d her twin, with an edge that made Milla wonder if she minded not being the best, for once.

  ‘Still,’ Isak said, ‘it’s going to take us years to get through all those books. We should get back to it.’

  Milla looked at the dragons, drowsing now on the perch in the warmth of the stove. Kara had been so clear in her advice about the eggs, perhaps she would know more about dragons than a dusty old book? Was she still at the Yellow House, or had she fled the island already? Talking to Kara could be just the shortcut they needed.

  Even if she was still hiding with Josi, there still remained one problem: how could she arrange to see Kara without leading the duke’s soldiers straight there?

  ‘We should focus. It’s the big questions we need to start with.’ Vigo handed Tarya a cup of coffee, getting a weary half-smile in thanks. He listed them on his fingers. ‘Where did they come from? What happened to their parents? What do they need to survive?’

  ‘Yes, we need to narrow it down. If only there was someone who could tell us,’ Isak said. ‘At least show us where to look.’

  Kara would know. Kara could tell them. Milla glanced at her three friends – at the four dragons. She could keep faith with her friends and with Kara at the same time, if she navigated carefully around her promise.

  ‘There might be someone,’ Milla began. ‘Do you remember the old woman who spoke at the duke’s ball?’ She gave them a trimmed-down version of meeting Kara on hatching night. She left out her exact words, and the part about taking Kara to Josi.

  ‘The duke is looking for her! Let’s tell him. He can send his men, bring her straight here!’ Isak burst out.

  Milla stared at him. As a Norlander, Isak didn’t understand how the duke’s soldiers treated other people on Arcosi.

  ‘Er, why don’t I speak to her first?’ She tried not to criticise the duke in front of Isak. ‘She hasn’t done anything wrong.’

  ‘She wrecked the duke’s ball – that’s when she told us the dragons were returning, that night,’ Tarya recalled in a rush. ‘Wait, did she bring them? Was she with that man who was killed?’