Dragon Daughter

by Liz Flanagan

Iggie glided from the perch and came to her, nosing at her side. She stroked his large blue head, grateful for his understanding. He was huge now, the size of a pony. He curled up, leaning his snout on her, and its weight was comforting.

  ‘What troublemakers? What are you talking about?’ Tarya sat up straight. ‘More riots?’

  Heral raised his head, growling softly.

  ‘Some Sartolan-born thugs, destroying Norlander property.’ Isak sounded dismissive.

  ‘That’s terrible!’ Tarya cried.

  ‘Did you hear any of their names, these thugs?’ Milla asked. ‘Where were they taken?’

  Iggie whined, and she wrapped her arms round his neck.

  ‘Is our house all right?’ asked Tarya. ‘Why would they do that? Destroy property?’

  ‘Really, Tarya?’ Something snapped inside Milla. ‘If you think for half a moment, even you could work it out.’

  The other three all stared back. Milla was never mean to Tarya.

  ‘Milla! Do you … are you saying you know these people? That you understand?’

  ‘Are you saying you don’t understand? Oh, wait, you two are Norlanders, and you’re the duke’s son. Of course you don’t!’ As soon as her words were out, Milla regretted them, seeing their faces slam closed. She braced against the wall and released Iggie, ready for a confrontation.

  ‘Come on, then, Milla,’ Isak hit back, his sarcastic tone matching hers. ‘Enlighten us, with your superior knowledge of Arcosi life!’ Belara had joined him now, and she was making a high, distressed noise in the back of her throat, her golden ears flat against her head.

  Iggie growled softly, warning Isak.

  Milla took a deep breath, resisting the urge to scream Rosa’s story in Isak’s face. Instead, she thought for a moment, then took the plate of sugar biscuits that lay on the floor between them and counted them. ‘See this plate, here, this is Arcosi … And there’s twelve biscuits, right?’

  They were watching her carefully, people and dragons.

  Milla tipped all the biscuits off the plate, then added two back on. ‘Here’s the Norlanders, arriving on Arcosi, fifty years ago, finding a lovely empty island, and settling here. Right?’

  ‘Right,’ Tarya said. ‘That’s our grandparents, and dad was born here, just after.’

  Heral kept his eyes on her, alert and ready to fly to Tarya if she gave the word.

  Milla added four more biscuits onto the same half of the plate. ‘Oh yes, the Norlanders bred and settled here.’

  ‘And here come the Sartolans.’ Milla added the rest of the biscuits, slowly, one by one onto the other half of the plate. ‘Over time, they settle here too, coming just over the Sartolan Straits, to their nearest neighbour, because Sartola is still recovering from the war, and there’s work here on Arcosi.’ She added a biscuit: ‘There’s space in the harbour for another boat.’ She added another. ‘There’s room in the marketplace for Rosa’s family’s stall. Opportunities, if you work hard. Right?’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Half and half, more or less. Norlanders. Sartolans. Side by side. There should be enough room for everyone. But watch.’

  They watched as she spread the Norlander biscuits all over the plate, pushing the Sartolan ones into a corner.

  ‘Only who has the best houses?’ She moved another Norlander biscuit over so it occupied the Sartolan side. ‘The best jobs?’ And another. ‘Best stalls?’ And another. ‘Lowest fees, for everything? And the duke likes it that way because it favours his people and he promised his dead father he would protect them at any price.’

  Isak scowled and looked ready to interrupt.

  ‘Oh, and the people of Sartolan descent?’ Milla went on, before Isak could speak. ‘You can fight it out over here, for the scraps …’ She took the Sartolan biscuits, all squashed into a quarter of the plate now, and jostled them up against each other.

  ‘I’m not sure that’s true, Milla,’ Tarya said, looking hurt.

  ‘Oh, I haven’t finished,’ Milla said. ‘What happens, if a person of Sartolan descent dares to speak up in protest?’

  The others were silent.

  ‘Well, the duke’s got rules about that … Don’t start having ideas above your station! Here come the soldiers – they’ll take you away to prison.’ She lifted up one of the Sartolan biscuits. ‘And Duke Olvar sets the release fee so high, because he clearly isn’t rich enough. And if you don’t have enough money to pay it? Bye bye!’ She shoved the biscuit in her mouth and crunched it up, scattering crumbs down her blue tunic.

  Tarya’s cheeks were flushed. ‘So, what are you saying? That it’s acceptable for people to go around blowing things up?’

  Iggie barked, Mraa!

  ‘That it’s all right to do this?’ Tarya struck the plate from below. It flew from Milla’s hands, sending biscuits and crumbs everywhere, and shattered into pieces.

  They glared at each other across the mess.

  Iggie and Belara jumped back, thrashing their tails, confused and upset by this new behaviour.

  ‘I think we all need to calm down,’ Vigo said. He’d been stroking Petra the whole time, soothing her. ‘It’s a bit more complicated than biscuits.’

  Milla ignored him. ‘I’m not saying it’s right to go out rioting! I’m saying it’s understandable. I’m saying things have got to change. If you’d spent your whole life fighting twice as hard for half the gain, wouldn’t you be angry?’

  ‘You do seem very angry, Milla,’ Isak said, ignoring Belara’s attempts to climb onto his knee, even though she was far too big for that these days. ‘Who knew? When a Norlander family took you in, and gave you work?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, did I forget to be grateful for my crumbs?’ she yelled at him. ‘Anyway, it’s not about me. You know what it’s really about?’

  ‘I think you’re going to tell us,’ Isak said.

  ‘It’s about whether Norlanders and Sartolans, or anyone else, deserve to be treated the same.’ Images flashed through her mind’s eye: all the times she’d watched Norlanders jumping queues, breezing through checkpoints, taking the best moorings in the harbour, the best stalls in the marketplace. And all without realising. ‘What do you think, Isak? Are you better simply because your ancestors are Norlanders?’

  He didn’t answer.

  ‘And if you think you are’ – she struggled a little here, aware that tears were rising behind her anger – ‘at least have the courage to say so. Don’t pretend it’s the same for everyone else. And don’t pretend to be surprised when people get round to showing their anger.’

  Iggie stretched his large blue head down over her shoulder. She patted his long nose and rested her cheek against his, trying to calm her breathing.

  ‘Of course we’re not better because we’re Norlander,’ Tarya intervened. ‘I’ve never said that, or treated anyone differently because of their family. Right, Isak?’ She nudged her brother hard.

  ‘What would you have done, then?’ Isak said, more quietly. ‘Remembering none of us chose the family we were born into?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Milla tried to hear him out.

  ‘Say you’re a Norlander, like the duke. Like our father. You find refuge on an empty island, you make it yours. You build a home. You protect your own. Just like anyone would do, in their own home. Would you let a random stranger who’d just walked in start telling you what to do?’

  ‘Oh, so it’s about who was there first?’ Milla said. ‘I’m just making sure I understand.’ She matched his tone now, making hers soft and quiet too. Iggie sensed the tension, and raised his head. She could sense him, glaring at Isak for upsetting his person. At least someone was on her side.

  ‘Why not?’ Isak said.

  ‘That’s a very dangerous game for a Norlander to play.’ Milla had lost control, but she was too angry to care. The words kept tumbling from her lips. ‘This island isn’t yours by right. Fifty years isn’t that long. What if someone comes to Arcosi and says they were born right here, are you goi
ng to get up and walk out, and give it all back to them?’

  ‘Oh, is this your mysterious Kara who knows everything? Born here, was she? Of course she was!’ Isak laughed. ‘Why didn’t I think of that one? You’re so gullible.’

  ‘I knew it! Your argument doesn’t work, even for you!’ Milla cried at Isak. ‘You’ll never give up your privilege. You’ve got too used to hanging out with the duke!’

  ‘And you’ve got too used to hanging out at the docks.’ He leaned in close, with a sneer. ‘Maybe that’s where you belong!’

  Milla pushed Isak away, hard. She heard the light crunch as his eyeglasses broke.

  ‘I’m sorry! Isak, I didn’t mean to.’ She was filled with instant remorse.

  ‘Yes, you did,’ Isak said. ‘You’ve made it very clear where your loyalties lie, Milla.’ His face was flushed bright red, and he looked vulnerable and younger without his glasses on. ‘And your blind spots.’ And he stood up carefully, collecting the fragments of glass from his shirt, and left the dragonhall. Belara followed him miserably, with her tail between her hind legs.

  Milla looked at Tarya and Vigo, and burst into tears.

  ‘Oh, Milla.’ Tarya rushed to her and put her arms around her tightly.

  Milla could feel Tarya’s tears trickling down the back of her neck; Vigo’s hand on her shoulder. For a long time, they didn’t speak. Words were messy, hurtful things and Milla didn’t trust herself to find the right ones any more.

  Eventually they sat down, each resting against their dragon. Touching their dragons calmed them all down.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was?’ Tarya said eventually.

  Milla sniffed. ‘Not that easy. As you see. People get defensive.’

  She saw Tarya reach for Vigo’s hand.

  Vigo cleared his throat. ‘I had this tutor once. A Silk Islander. He was the best, till Dad made him leave. Anyway, he used to say, we aren’t born knowing things: that’s what life’s for.’

  ‘And?’ Milla wiped her face, grateful for Iggie’s presence, for his long blue back which curled around her, making her feel safe.

  ‘If Tarya didn’t know how it was for you, maybe it’s not her fault—’

  ‘It’s not my fault either!’

  ‘No, it’s not.’ Vigo was very calm and serious, and Tarya was gripping his hand tightly. ‘So that’s why you have to tell each other how it is for you.’

  Milla hesitated, still smarting from Isak’s tone.

  ‘Listen to me,’ Vigo went on. ‘If we are going to change things on this island, we have to be honest. We have to listen. And not take offence. Starting with us, right here, right now.’

  ‘Will you, Milla?’ Tarya burst out. ‘Be honest with me! But don’t be angry with me, please?’ Her chin wobbled as she said this. ‘I can’t stand it.’

  Milla looked at her friend. She could see how hurt she was, and how sincere. She realised she’d never spoken to her in anger before.

  ‘All right.’ She gave Tarya a small, shaky smile. ‘I’m sorry for being horrible. I didn’t mean it. I know you didn’t invent the rules.’

  They hugged each other, then, all three of them. The dragons growled approvingly, sending little curls of smoke into the air.

  ‘If we want the island to be peaceful, maybe we start with us,’ Tarya said. ‘If I’m Norlander; Vigo, you’re half-Norlander, half-Sartolan …’

  ‘But I don’t know what I am!’ Milla wailed.

  ‘We’re all Arcosi,’ Vigo said. ‘That’s the point. We live on this island. We love this island. And it belongs to all of us. Right?’

  ‘Right!’ Tarya said.

  ‘Of course,’ Milla said, stroking Iggie’s blue scales lightly. But she would bet her dragon’s life that the duke would see it differently.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Isak didn’t return to the dragonhall that night. Milla spent the hours of darkness sleeplessly repeating their row in her mind.

  Iggie didn’t sleep either. Finally he came and nosed at Milla in her bunk, whiffling and tugging at her sleeve, till she got up, grabbed her jacket and followed him.

  Fresh air would help.

  She pushed the dragonhall doors open and said a friendly, ‘Morning! Is it morning yet?’ to the startled sentry.

  It was cold outside. Milla found her hat in her jacket pocket and tugged it low over her curls. They wandered slowly through the deserted palace gardens, Iggie flying low and then circling back to check Milla was still following.

  ‘Where are we going Ig?’ she asked, curious to see what he had in mind.

  Behind the palace, there was a stand of wind-bent trees and a little rocky hill that sheltered the palace from the north wind. The hill fell away, into sheer cliffs below, where no one but seabirds ever went. Iggie made his way there, and Milla climbed after him, breathlessly.

  Finally, they stood there, on the highest point of the island, just as the long night started fading. Milla looked southwards over the whole island, the little dots of light from night fires and lanterns down in the city. This high up, they would be invisible, hidden in the shadows and the mist.

  Milla turned to her dragon. ‘What is it, Iggie? What are we doing here?’

  Iggie flapped his wings once. Then he fixed Milla with his intense emerald stare, came two steps closer and knelt on his front legs. Craaak? That was a new sound, like he was asking her something. He folded his wings flat and looked up, to see if she understood.

  ‘What?’ She puzzled over his actions.

  He gestured over his shoulders.

  ‘You want me to get on?’ she asked.

  Iggie aarked, blinking in delight.

  ‘You don’t …?’ she asked incredulously. ‘You do? You want us to fly!’

  A wild reckless impulse possessed Milla.

  ‘We can’t,’ she said. ‘Can we?’

  Iggie just stared at her steadily.

  ‘Oh, Iggie. I know you want to cheer me up after last night, but it’s not allowed. I think Duke Olvar might actually explode with rage if he found out.’

  Iggie harrumphed disdainfully, making her laugh out loud and clap a hand over her mouth.

  She knew it was forbidden, but this was Iggie’s idea. He wanted to fly. With her.

  If this worked, Milla would be a dragonrider of Arcosi. Like the murals in the dragonhall. Like Karys Stormrider.

  ‘Really? You sure, love? What if you’re not strong enough? What if I’m too heavy?’ She might hurt him. What if they both tumbled into the sea, or worse, over the cliffs? They’d be smashed to pieces.

  Iggie snorted so violently she got a face full of smoke.

  ‘All right, all right,’ she coughed. ‘I’m coming!’ Excitement and fear made her clumsy and awkward. She fumbled around, trying to climb on his back without bashing his wings. In the end, she seated herself sideways, then leant back and hoisted one leg over his ears. She’d rested against him. She’d even sat on him. This felt different. This was about total trust.

  Milla looked down. Her fingers touched his iridescent blue scales lightly, tracing their ridged edges. He was blue as a dragonfly, blue as a peacock, bluer than the sky on a perfect summer’s day. Iggie’s strong back held her easily and she knew she was light. She gripped a little harder with her thighs, feeling his ribs and the muscled strength of his sides.

  ‘Where do I hold on?’ she asked. ‘Sorry Ig, but I don’t have wings of my own.’

  He lifted his long neck and turned back towards her. He lowered his ears and purred at her, reassuringly.

  ‘I know, you won’t let me fall! But can I hold your neck while you fly? Can you still breathe?’

  He nodded and turned back. Milla leant forwards, trying to balance between his shoulders so she didn’t interfere with his wings. She bent low against him and passed her arms round his strong scaly neck, clasping forearm to forearm and shifting her weight forwards.

  ‘I’m ready, if you are?’ she whispered, seeing Ig’s ears twitch at the sound. She
could feel his heartbeat speeding up, and it made hers do the same.

  Iggie stepped forwards to the very edge of the boulder they stood on, then crouched low. Below them, the gardens were shrouded with pearly mist in the grey dawn light. It was damp and cold and very quiet.

  Milla felt the taut clench of his muscles, bunched and gathered, waiting. Behind her back, Iggie unfurled his massive wings.

  I trust you, she thought, shivering in the cool air. And if they died, at least they’d die together.

  Then Iggie sprang. He strained. She felt the pull and lift of it. She gasped. Eyes screwed shut. Hands clinging, clammily.

  They didn’t fall. They weren’t falling. They were flying!

  Milla looked. The bare treetops, rocks and grass receded below them as they rose. ‘There’s the dragonhall!’ She stared through the mist, everything unfamiliar from this birds-eye view. ‘Oh, Iggie, we did it!’

  She held tight, feeling each beat of his wings begin in his strong chest muscles, under her hands.

  They flew over the palace, its four towers spindly and small as a child’s toy beneath them. Then they passed over the palace walls and …

  ‘Oh!’ Milla’s insides cartwheeled inside her. And then louder: ‘Ohhh!’ she cried.

  The rooftops of Arcosi stretched out below them, disappearing into the mist in a jumble of red tiles and flat roofs, chimneys, belltowers, washing lines and spires. There were the wharves and the warehouses and the marketplace – ridiculously small, little toytown squares, still deserted.

  ‘Look – the harbour!’ Through the fine cloud she saw boats moored, no bigger than the pondskaters in Nestan’s favourite fountain. A few were headed out to sea – fingernail ships crossing smooth pale water. Was that Thom’s ship? If he looked up now, what would he think?

  The wind rushed past Milla’s face, pulling tears from her eyes. She laughed out loud and hugged Iggie’s neck, screaming, ‘Iggie-eeee! You’re amazing!’

  Then they left the island behind them. The world was just wind and sea and sky and the speed of it. And they were one, like they’d never been before. She held Iggie tightly with her arms and her legs, feeling his power and determination and delight.