Azrael's Twins

by V. J. Mortimer

  ‘No, I thought you might like to give them a tour, Roland. Grady caused quite a stir when they arrived yesterday. The Scottish Sable Head they came in with apparently was rolling around on the floor in front of Grady. I thought there might be some of the spark in him. Is it worth checking?’

  ‘Well ...’ said Roland thoughtfully. ‘The Sable Heads aren’t known for being particularly dangerous, which is why they tend to get used for those royal trips. They are a bit of a diesel dragon – not terribly fast but guaranteed to give you a comfortable ride. Normally I’d say the beast was just in a bit of a friendly mood, but Grady is completely new to this land and that tends to make them skittish, not friendly.’

  Turning back to Grady he beckoned him to come closer. ‘Would you like to take a look around?’ he asked him kindly.

  ‘Yes please,’ said Grady. ‘I’ve never been in a dragon stable. Why don’t you have any windows in here? And how did they build it without any wood? And why did they build it without any wood? I mean, I can see how they’ve built it, but what’s the point? Wouldn’t it have been much harder than building it normally? Like with wood, I mean?’

  Vynda chuckled at Grady’s stream of questions. ‘I should have warned you,’ she said. ‘He’s not backward at asking questions!’

  Allowing himself a wry smile Roland said to Grady, ‘Which question first then? Okay – the stone. Well Grady, what do you think would happen if you built a building out of wood and then housed a brood of dragons in it? Hmmm?’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ said Grady – realisation spreading across his face accompanied by a red blush at the now obvious silliness of his question. ‘It would probably get burnt down I suppose, every time one of them had a cold.’

  ‘Yes it would,’ said Roland. ‘And the windows are the same story. There wasn’t much point putting glass into them as a dragon’s tail can do a lot of damage as it flicks around – especially if we have any of the Indonesian Pointers in with the damn great clubs on the end of the tail. Can do a lot of damage, those things can. Anyway, come take a look around – I’ll introduce you to some of the team.’

  Turning in a way which looked like a deck chair unfolding, Roland lurched off into the stables with long loping strides. Grady, Niamh and Bree scuttled along quickly to try and keep up. ‘Follow me down here kids – we’ll start with the racing team.’

  ‘Racing team? You have a team of racing dragons?’ asked Niamh.

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Roland. ‘It’s one of the biggest parts of my job. I breed and train the racing dragons for the king’s team on the professional racing circuit. It’s also one of the main interschool sports, you know. I’m sure you’ll get a chance to race with them one day,’ he said, turning to Grady.

  ‘Gosh, could I?’ said Grady eagerly. ‘Can you teach me how to ride them?’

  ‘Oh I’d love to, Grady, but the guidelines are you can’t race dragons until you’re at least twelve years old and even though it’s not a rule, no one younger than that has raced for years. So you’ll have to wait a while before you can try that, I think. And it’s not the safest sport – despite all the padding and protection they wear these days. I mean, it’s safer than it was. No one’s been killed for, oooh I don’t know – weeks now it must be. But at least in the professional leagues they have insurance for that kind of thing. And I’m sure your parents wouldn’t be keen on a prince getting in harm’s way like they do in the school competitions – it’s still pretty rugged at that level.’

  Grady looked crestfallen at the thought it would be years before he raced. ‘Don’t worry,’ said Roland. ‘You’ll still be able to pick up some of the basic skills from your broomstick training. They are nowhere near as dangerous as the dragons and the skills you need to ride a dragon are the same as those you need for a broomstick – learning how to steer with your balance, keeping yourself centred over your balance point – you’ll pick it up quickly.’

  Turning to Niamh he asked, ‘What broomsticks are you on at the moment?’

  ‘We don’t have broomsticks yet,’ she said. ‘I’m not even sure when we get them. And we haven’t a clue how to ride them even if we did have them.’

  Roland looked surprised. ‘What have your parents been teaching you – or not teaching you as the case may be?’ he said shaking his head.

  They reached the end of the stables to see a group of fifteen pens all with the same type of dragon in them. None of the beasts were particularly big but everything about them showed they were built for speed. Their heads reminded Grady of the nose cones on a fighter jet. Their bodies were streamlined and glistened as if oiled, though it was clear they had scales like all the other dragons he had seen. Their tails had small fins on them but unlike their bulkier, less lithe-looking cousins, these resembled the tail fins on a rocket jet – four sets of three fins regularly spaced down the length of the tail. Other than that there were none of the bony protrusions which seemed to mark the other dragons. Alike as they were in design the dragons were as dissimilar in colour. No two of them had the same markings or patterns though the adornment their bodies did have spiralled and swooped down their flanks and chests. The patterns drew the eye inexorably backward when you looked at them, making it appear that whatever they were doing – even when they were just sitting still – they were doing it fast.

  As the children came closer the dragons craned their heads up to peer at the visitors. By the time the group had come to a stop, fifteen sets of eyes were focused on them. The children felt distinctly uncomfortable and Roland sensed their unease.

  ‘Beautiful, aren’t they,’ he said. ‘And don’t worry. As a rule they tend not to eat small children – it upsets their stomachs.’

  ‘How ... how do you sit on them?’ asked Niamh nervously. ‘They don’t look like they’d be very comfortable.’

  ‘What’s comfort got to do with it?’ laughed Roland. ‘Actually, the best part about dragon riding is if a dragon wants you off its back there is little you can do to stay on. Remember these are magical creatures and their magic is old magic. They can knock you off or help you stay on tight as if they were covered in glue. Most of the riders just use a thin elf coat which straps around the neck and underbelly of the dragons and use the harnesses for their hands to hang on.’ He gestured to the wall above the nearest dragon where the children saw a small version of the sleek thin ropes used to harness the dragon that brought them to the castle. ‘The best harnesses are elf-made like these ones here – I won’t use anything else for my team. They are gentler on the beasts so better for them in the long run.’

  ‘Where do you race them?’ asked Grady.

  ‘The course around here takes in most of the hills,’ said Roland. ‘You end up racing downhill and uphill and through the forests as well. So speed is important but so is stamina and agility – being nimble to race through the forest tracks. Come and look at some of the others here.’

  They made their way down past other pens, all of which held a bewildering array of dragons. Some of the dragons were tethered by substantial-looking chains while a number of the more docile-looking beasts wandered freely or just sat in their pens. They were tended by goblin-like creatures with leathery sallow skin that scuttled around the dragons removing old stones and replacing them with new clean river stones, and also by slow-moving trolls that appeared to be carved out of rock. Several elves wandered past on their way to and from the tack room giving deferential nods to Roland.

  ‘There aren’t any humans working here,’ said Niamh.

  ‘No. The smell tends to put them off,’ said Roland. ‘The trolls are perfect as they can’t be burnt, just charred a little bit. And though they aren’t the fastest they do a great job of holding down the truculent ones when needed. Plus they have absolutely no sense of smell – well, organic smells anyway.’ The nearest troll turned its head slowly as if the thought took a long time to get from its brain to its neck. It grunted a noise which could have been interpreted as “Hello” before turning back to what app
eared to be an attempt to outstare the dragon it was tending.

  ‘The gnolls here are extraordinarily hard workers and don’t mind the smell or the dragon dung. In fact they take it away and make their houses out of it on the far side of the city down by the marshes.’

  ‘Homes!’ said Niamh. ‘Urrggh!’

  ‘Oh, it’s not that bad,’ said Roland. ‘Once it dries anyway. It’s completely waterproof once you pack it out with a bit of sawdust.’

  ‘And when you add werewolf wee to the mix it’s completely fireproof too,’ said Bree.

  ‘Oh Bree you did NOT need to tell them about that!’ said Vynda.

  ‘What?’ she said, looking completely confused. ‘They’ll find out soon enough.’

  ‘That’s one story they could have been ignorant of for a while longer, thank you,’ said Vynda.

  The children wrinkled their noses a little at the thought of a house made of dragon dung and werewolf wee. Niamh tried to find something nice to say about it but all she could find was ‘Well, I suppose it’s very ... eco friendly?’ she said, grimacing.

  ‘That’s the spirit!’ said Roland brightly. ‘Your grandfather is very keen on the idea of recycling so don’t be too hasty about making judgements.’

  They slowly worked their way down the stables and back up the other side. Roland spoke about each of his charges with real care – even the belligerent and angry-looking ones received a thoughtful pat on the head or scratch behind the ears. The bigger dragons had oversized pens and Niamh wondered how they would fit through the doors of the stable. The dragon that had brought them from the warehouse was nowhere to be seen. ‘He’s out – other duties – but come back later if you want to see him. My door is always open.’

  ‘Of course it’s open, Roland – your dragons keep blowing it off its hinges!’ said Vynda.

  ‘Now, now. Don’t exaggerate,’ he said. ‘They haven’t done that for at least a month.’

  The building next door held all of the carriages that were used as transport for the castle including the beautiful carriage the children had arrived in. The building was workmanlike just as the main stables were, but was built without the strengthening the stables required. Several elves bustled away inside tending to the tack which needed repairs and cleaning and polishing the various carriages.

  They made their way back into the stables and jumped as a sudden burst of blue hot flame lit up the far end of the stables.

  ‘What was that!’ said Niamh in a startled voice.

  ‘That,’ replied Roland, ‘is my latest and most dangerous find. It’s a mountain viper. Fiendishly difficult to track and trap. Right little buggers to be honest. Ride one of these in a race and there won’t be another dragon that will get close. Apparently.’

  ‘What do you mean by “Apparently”, Roland?’ asked Vynda. ‘Are you planning something dangerous again?’

  ‘Wellllll ...’ said Roland hesitantly. ‘No one has actually trained one to race in a long time. A long, long, long time, to be honest. They might be small but the last time we heard of someone trying to train one all they found was a pair of boots beside a big pile of ash. They never found the dragon again. He’d melted clean through his chains and disappeared.’

  The children looked surprised. ‘Well, what are you doing with him in here then!’ asked Grady.

  ‘Well, I’m hoping to be the first one to successfully train a racing viper in over five hundred years – as far as we can tell. To be honest the only reason this one is here is because I ran across him injured in the mountains. He was only a dragonlet when I found him – a baby, that is. Not much bigger than a puppy. No idea where he came from but he wasn’t well. So I took him back here and looked after him. Not that you’d know. The ungrateful little ratbag has barely let me get near him since I saved him. I’ve managed to wrestle myself onto his back once or twice but he’s such an angry beast I daren’t try to fly him. At least I think it’s a he. You have to get closer than I’m prepared to get to work that out. He takes his food from me but if it wasn’t for those chains I reckon he’d have had me as a snack a long time ago! I dare say Gilly down in the library could tell us a bit more about him though. Have you met him yet?’

  The children shook their heads as Vynda chimed in. ‘I think Bree might take them down later to see Gilly. What do you think, Bree? Could you introduce these two to the old man?’

  ‘Would love to,’ said Bree.

  ‘Good,’ replied Vynda. ‘And now I think it’s time I took these two along with me, Roland,’ she continued. ‘It’s been fun, as ever. Try not to get too close to the viper please. We’d like to find more than your boots when we come back to see you next!’

  ‘Excuse me, Roland,’ said Grady. ‘Can I help you try to train this viper please? It sounds like it would be fun and I’d love to learn how to!’

  Niamh rolled her eyes at her brother. ‘Oh for heaven’s sake, Grady,’ she said. ‘What do you think Mum and Dad would say about that? I don’t think realistically there’s much chance of you being able to help – do you?’

  ‘Well I can try, can’t I?’ said Grady in a defiant tone. ‘I think I could help a lot, to be honest!’

  Roland looked surprised at Grady’s question. ‘There’s not many want to be dragon trainers. Dragon riders, now yes. Plenty of hopefuls queue up for that. But dragon training is a calling. Not many come to it early and even fewer survive. Most of the folk who race these things just want to get the glory of winning races – they normally think it’s too hard and messy to train them.’ For a moment he looked thoughtfully at Grady. ‘But there is a bit of a ... spark ... in you, isn’t there?’ he said, almost to himself. ‘Come here for a moment,’ he said. ‘Let’s take a look at those eyes of yours.’

  Grady looked uncertain but walked forward after a quick nod from Niamh and a push in the back. Kneeling down awkwardly in front of Grady, one bony elbow sticking out of a hole in his sleeve, Niamh thought Roland did not inspire confidence.

  Holding Grady’s hands he turned them over once or twice looking at the patterns of lines on them. Then he turned his attention to Grady’s eyes and gave the most penetrating stare Grady had ever seen. Grady felt as though Roland’s gaze was cutting right through to the back of his head. Around him the stable began to swim out of focus as Roland’s eyes became all he could see. His heart skipped a beat when the eyes appeared suddenly to no longer be human but those of a dragon – reptile-like with slits for pupils and a green tint behind them. Feeling like he was being drawn into those eyes Grady started to pull away. The vision lasted only a moment before the stables came back into focus and once more there was just an awkward shabby little man kneeling in front of him.

  ‘And what did you see?’ asked Roland so quietly that it was barely above a whisper.

  ‘Your eyes ... they ... I felt ...’ stammered Grady, trying to find words.

  ‘Go on,’ said Roland thoughtfully.

  Drawing a big breath Grady continued. ‘I thought I saw a dragon’s eyes,’ he finally managed to say, looking almost embarrassed and casting his eyes down as he did so.

  ‘Did you, now?’ said Roland, sitting back on his haunches and dropping his hands into his lap. ‘Well now that is interesting, don’t you think so Vynda?’ he said, turning a wry grin at the woman in black.

  ‘Please Sir,’ said Niamh, ‘what does that mean, the dragon’s eyes, I mean?’

  Vynda answered her. ‘Only those who have “special” talents are able to see the eyes in a dragon master. And usually that talent doesn’t show itself until a child reaches the age of twelve or thirteen. The legends say that there used to be dragon masters who were children, daughters or sons of abnormally powerful wizards – dark wizards some say, as most of them came to no good in the end. But there haven’t been any of those for centuries.’

  Vynda stepped forward and gently took Grady’s hand. ‘Perhaps we’ve seen enough for one day Roland, don’t you think?’

  Looking up from his sitting position
Roland replied, ‘Oh yes. Yes I think I have seen enough. And so has the rest of the brood I would say, wouldn’t you?’

  Turning around they saw most of the dragons not tethered had wandered towards them and were clustered behind Roland. There were at least ten large beasts now behind him, some chewing lumps of coal, some sitting quietly while small puffs of steam came from nostrils ready to flame, while others just stared, not moving a muscle but with eyes focused completely on the little red-haired man standing in front of them.

  Grady found himself backing away. ‘I think we’ll be going now,’ he said, before turning tail and breaking into a run back up the path. As Grady ran, Niamh took one more startled glance at the dragons, tore her gaze away from their stares, let out a small squeak, and hightailed it after Grady.

  Vynda looked back at Roland and said, ‘Keep what just happened to yourself for now – at least until I’ve spoken to their parents.’

  ‘Okay,’ he said, standing up, ‘but do it soon. Bel was right. That talent needs harnessing quickly. He could be something special.’ Glancing back up at the retreating children he looked thoughtful. ‘Very special indeed,’ he said quietly to himself.

  Chapter 8

  A Library of their Own

  The children bolted up the path leaving the stables behind them. By the time Vynda had made her way back out through the stables door they were already halfway up the hill leading to the castle. Vynda smiled to herself and broke into a gentle run but gained speed with every loping stride. As she did so her features began to blur and melt, changing to an indistinct ball of revolving dull red light. As the ball continued to speed up the path a low buzzing sound rose and then suddenly fell away as if a high speed racing car had rocketed past and the fuzzy orb began to transform into the shape of a large bounding Red Setter. The teeth showing from between the lolling tongue of the setter were just slightly longer than you would expect from the breed and the eyes looked just slightly more intelligent. The dog sped up the hill letting out an excited bark. In a matter of seconds the gap to the children had been closed.