Mayra wondered if any of her friends used magic to tame the beasts. She knew that both Bren brothers were attuned to animals; they had always tamed those considered too wild to handle. Richart was giving the quieted male stag-elks extra attention while Harald and Kirik showed several villagers how to milk the does. Two young women were talking with Indiera and Jannia, and as Mayra watched, one of them removed her soft blue scarf and traded with Jannia for her bright red one.
Mayra smiled across the pen at Richart, her lover for so many years, then turned back to Wolfe, the man she loved. He was watching her with those disconcerting eyes; he reached out and brushed back a lock of her pale hair, smiling as she shivered at his touch.
I wish we could have spent the night here, in a warm bed, alone.
His mind-speak, for her alone, was filled with husky longing and made her cheeks redden. Wolfe chuckled, slid a massive arm around her shoulders, and pulled her closer to him. If I can ever spend all the days and nights I long to with you, we will—
The sound of dragons’ wings growing closer interrupted him. Fauler honed in on Wolfe and Mayra at once.
It is time to depart!
Fauler’s voice echoed through the witch’s heads. Mayra smiled as Payk swung around to gape at the green dragon that had landed behind him. Both Payk and Fyrid looked startled; Fyrid was the first to realize what had happened. He leaned over and said something to his uncle. Payk eyes widened and then a grin spread across his face. He quickly sought Heyr.
“We have to go,” Payk told his brother abruptly. He grimaced. “Heyr, that came out more harshly than I intended. There are things—” He stopped short and shook his head. “Things are changing. I will return. We will talk then.”
Mayra could hear bewilderment in the voice of Payk as though he still struggled to comprehend those changes. Her eyes returned to Heyr af’Unshyr, leaning a little more on his crutch. Stark pain in his face made him look far older than a man only a few years older than Payk, and Mayra wondered if that pain was due as much to the loss of his son and brother as losing his leg. Even now, Heyr watched as though he still couldn’t believe he was seeing his son and brother cross the grass to stand next to a massive gold dragon. Fleura—the Sorst Clan would always know her the woman warrior who had beaten Grice af‘Sauder—joined them. Fyrid reached out and patted Larek’s huge shoulder, moving his basket around as though to make it more comfortable.
The lid of the basket jiggled and two black noses poked out. The villagers laughed; even Uuala and Heyr managed a smile. Fyrid fastened the lid.
Payk looked directly at Heyr; the chieftain nodded jerkily and watched in silence with the other villagers as the witches went to their various dragons. They all stood ready, awaiting the actions of Mayra and Wolfe.
Mayra joined Wolfe alongside Fauler and all three watched the chieftain as he made his way across the compound to join Fyrid and Fleura. The elder version of Fyrid gazed at his son a long moment, moved those disconcerting eyes to Fleura for a moment, then turned back to Fyrid.
“You always were such an explorer, that even as a child, I called you our wanderer. And I wondered if you would be the one to bring an outsider into our Clan.” Heyr hesitated. “This young woman is a bit more of an outsider than I expected, but she is welcome here. That is—” He shot a sharp glance at his son. “If you will stay here once you return?”
Fyrid cleared his throat. “Father, I don’t yet know. I can’t say what I will do.”
“I will keep him safe,” Payk said gruffly. “And if not me, then this young lady will step forward. We will come back, so you may at least see we are unharmed.”
Uuala, blinking back tears, nodded. She suddenly swept Fleura up to her and hugged her.
Wh—Wait! Stop! Fleura looked panicked; her unnerved mind-speak spreading through both witches and dragons. Ever steadfast, she endured the embrace. When Uuala released her, the younger woman moved back as discreetly as possible.
“I-I will—” The young witch-warrior broke off and gave the Phailite woman a quick smile. “We will watch over each other.”
There was an abrupt silence and several people glanced over toward Mayra and Wolfe, who were whispering together. Mayra gestured toward Heyr and Wolfe nodded. The two Ring-Witches then realized many people were looking at them.
“Thank you for joining us,” Payk said drily. There was some nervous laughter.
Mayra smiled. “Mount up, all!” she called out. Once seated in front of Wolfe, she waved to Heyr and Uuala. “Thank you for your kindness!”
“We thank you for introducing new people to our Clan.” It was not Heyr who spoke, but Uuala. “And for reminding us about the bounty of the Ceshon Aerie. Perhaps someday, we will once again be friends—and more.”
Larek gave a soft huff. Every human around him looked his way.
“We learned long ago,” said the dragon softly, “that all creatures who think, must be free to think as they wish, yet ensuring those thoughts remain within the boundaries of a set of life-rules. But people cannot move forward if they do not reexamine those rules and change them as needed.”
“You are a wise dragon,” Heyr said, reaching out and laying his hand on the flank of the huge gold animal. “I count my family fortunate that my son and brother met you.” He stepped back as adults and children alike were being shooed away so the dragons could take flight.
At last, all the dragons were in the air.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Soaring toward the Hyrnt Village
Day eleven of the First Moon of Wynter
“Although they were very polite,” Fleura said sadly, “I don’t think your family likes me.” She leaned back in Fyrid’s arms. “I shouldn’t have interfered with you; I knew you could take that durgen down.”
“Durgen?” Payk repeated. “What is that?”
Fleura hunched her shoulders. She turned to look back at both men. “Ask Wolfe,” she replied vaguely. “I should act more the lady of dresses and elegant manners. I shouldn’t have used that word.”
“Wait, now,” Fyrid said, his white eyebrows drawing together. “My family liked you and I don’t want you being someone you are not. I held back so you could show that—that durgen, Grice, that you were a warrior first.” He hesitated. “Fleura, that it is how I prefer you.”
“Do you?” Fleura smiled at her younger lover and nestled back in his arms. “I would find it difficult to change. I do have a tendency to scoff at finery and wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.”
Both men and the dragon burst into laughter, drawing the eyes of the others, spread across the clear sky.
“While I’ve never been known to wipe my mouth on finery,” Larek offered. “I do often eat with my mouth open.” He rumbled out a laugh, but then sobered. “Fyrid, I caught your earlier mind-speak to Fleura. You must work to strengthen it and soon, you will be able to form words as easily as you talk. Would you like to practice mind-speak, my friends?”
Payk leaned forward to look first at his nephew, and then to get a better look at the dragon’s face. One of the horned and plated beast’s gold eyes stared back at him.
“You used mind-speak earlier?” Payk asked Fyrid.
“Yes, he did!” Fleura exclaimed. “When he told me to take care of Grice!”
“By the gods,” Payk muttered. He shook his head. “I wondered why Kantar appeared in your home as he did, Fyrid.” He might have feigned the deep shiver that went down him, or not. “He must have felt your presence. I feel as though I’m being watched all the time.”
My words are serious, friend Payk. Larek seemed to believe Payk was making light of the subject. Perhaps you do not feel it, but you are engulfed in dragon magic, having opened yourselves wholly to absorbing. And you are absorbing it, such as none of us have ever before seen.
Fyrid was silent. “That’s what Mother wanted to tell us,” he finally said, and he half-turned to his uncle. “She and Grandfather knew, and as you said, he stopped her from telling u
s or Father.”
“Your father knows, my boy,” said Payk. “I think—somehow, we look different to them now.”
I believe magic is what the old Phailite Clans took from the dragons. Mayra’s voice filled the two Phailites. Magic is the reason they stayed and the reason many wish to return to live with dragons, even if they don’t remember why they want to.
Humans and dragon looked to the side, where Fauler, Mayra, and Wolfe had fallen in beside them. On the other side, Hyaera, with Berent and Leyna, joined them.
What of Berent? Leyna asked.
“What of me?” The chieftain looked irritated that they were talking about him.
“Let him think about it,” Hyaera said aloud, and they could hear the amusement in his voice. Let him realize that no one spoke those words aloud.
“I think about—what words? What—” Berent broke off and his eyes rounded. “By the gods—” He trailed off and his arm tightened around Leyna.
“Berent,” she said quietly, to him alone, “the dragons’ magic is becoming part of you, as it has Fyrid and Payk.” Her head tilted. “Are you displeased over that? Or can you embrace it, as they are?”
Berent glanced over at the two men on the dragon next to him. Payk gave him a grin and waved.
“Do all my people have that ability?” Berent asked.
“Mayra says it is why your people wanted to live with and help the dragons in the first place,” Leyna replied. “So I would say yes.”
Berent lapsed into silence. Leyna leaned back against him, and he brushed his lips over her golden hair. They flew in silence for a while, then he asked her to tell him about mind-speak.
“The dragons brought it to us,” Leyna replied, lacing her fingers through his. “But once we learned, it was as though we had always known how to use it. Mayra and Wolfe can also speak to only each other and only to the dragons, but they are more powerful than any of us.” She paused, then added, with mind-speak, But we are refining what we know, and no doubt will soon be able to better communicate. It takes more practice for some of us.
“How—?” He screwed up his face. “I could hear you, but what do I do?”
“Nothing, my sweet. It will come, and then you will turn your thoughts into the words you wish to send out, and it will happen.” She chuckled, thinking of all the times witches and Phailites had unintentionally sent personal thoughts to each other that everyone else—including dragons—could hear. “Then you must practice control and clarity. Mainly control, else the dragons will give you no peace!”
Such wicked thoughts we caught from you! sent Hyaera. His low laughter vibrated through Berent and Leyna. You must learn to guard thoughts and emotions, or indeed, we will torment you mercilessly!
“There are many Phailites,” Berent murmured against Leyna’s hair, “who must never have contact with dragons. They must never be able to have these abilities.”
Though Berent hadn’t intended it, those words reached the dragons and Fauler sent them on to Wolfe and Mayra. Wolfe didn’t doubt Berent’s uneasiness; his earlier thoughts had been similar. It was a valid concern. The dragons needed to learn that not all humans were as honorable as the ones they now knew.
* * *
Upon reflection, Berent should have known his people would not react in the same composed, inquisitive way those of the Sorst Clan had. As he told Leyna later that day, “I truly didn’t realize just how much more intolerant Hyrnt villagers are. They are much less civilized than the Sorst village. And they really dislike dragons.” He had then grinned and admitted, “And I know, without a doubt, I must accept blame for the reception we received this morning.”
As they had left the Sorst village, flying eastward toward his home and people, Berent felt uneasy. He couldn’t help but compare the two villages, to remember how gloomy Hyrnt was, how unfriendly to outsiders the people were.
Even in the cold, children played throughout Sorst, bundled up and running around with dogs, adult and young direwolves—two children riding the massive canines had caught his attention—and the extra-furry pups that were a mixture of both. He knew there would be no children running around Hyrnt; the savage direwolves in that forest were known to sneak in and snatch wayward children. Laughing children were a luxury, running about, their small cheeks purple with cold, their eyes bright with happiness. The dragon’s offspring leaped to mind—
Berent’s thoughts trailed off as he laid his mitten over Hyaera’s scales, where red and black meshed together. The human felt the strong muscles beneath the dragon’s scales, through the fur and leather of his gear, and he wondered why and when so strong a beast, well equipped with the teeth and talons required to bring destruction to other animals and humans, had become peaceable and cultured. Who or what had brought about that miracle?
Realizing the human villages were dull compared to the Ceshon Aerie made him miss the vast Aerie, with its overlarge youngsters, as exuberant as human children in the Spryng as they played up and down, in and out of the corridors and rooms. Berent chuckled. He couldn’t wait until the weather grew warm and he could see them playing outside. He wanted to watch young dragons and direwolves at play.
Being a chieftain was uninteresting after living with dragons! He had finally admitted it to himself and in that instant, Berent Af’Torr knew he would no longer find happiness in his ancestral home; could not return to the ordinary life he’d had there. Could not leave Leyna behind.
No more responsibility. By the gods, those people needed to learn to solve their own problems. He was so tired of women bickering over things as trivial as who added more meat to the communal meals, and their men refusing to involve themselves. Tedious meetings, a thing of the past. Wearisome women, seeking his favors—he glanced down at Leyna. They would find this young warrior daunting, wouldn’t they?
He grinned as he bent and buried his face in the fur of her hood. He could faintly smell her scent through the fur and desire stirred in him. But his thoughts returned almost at once to the village.
One thing was certain—he was not leaving without exacting revenge from three cowardly men who had deserted him, running away from the dragon, Hagan, as soon the monster appeared. They had fled without even attempting to help him fight off the ferocious dragon, leaving Berent to be attacked and captured. And once that debt of honor was satisfied, he would be more than ready to battle both Hagan, and the Phailites who had used the power granted them by a dragon to abuse Berent and several gnomes who wanted nothing more than to return home.
He took a deep breath and slowly released it. Yes, he would join these serene warriors. And he and this woman would travel together, no matter where they went.
Berent. Hyaera’s mind-speak filled him. He glanced around and saw that no one else was reacting. He looked down to see that the dragon was looking at him. Berent nodded. I see that you are in a thoughtful mood, Hyaera continued. Ask yourself, why you and your fellow Phailites are winging your way to fight with Hagan. How did this come about? For Hagan injured you and Payk directly, and Fyrid through the familial ties of his father and grandfather. And yet you never knew each other before you found yourselves at the Aerie. Has someone arranged all this somehow or is it only chance? Dragons believe strongly in fate, but even we stop sometimes to wonder if fate has assistance.
* * *
The village of Hyrnt was in a valley hidden amid a tall forest of sturdy trees, and straddling a wide river. As the late morning fog lifted, Berent pointed out a ground-path for Hyaera to follow, while the other dragons flew further back. Berent reiterated—his people did not like dragons—and asked them to stay rearward.
They sailed lower, and Berent leaned away from Leyna. For a moment, he thought he saw men running amid the trees toward the village, but they could have been large birds or young stag-elk. They were still flying too high for him to be sure.
It’s too cold for birds. If they’re people, what are they doing? he asked himself. Perhaps chasing a stag-elk or a direwolf?
&n
bsp; “Berent, I saw men below us,” Leyna blurted. “Are they tracking us?”
“Your eyes are keen,” he whispered. “I saw them but wasn’t certain they were even human. I don’t know what they’re doing.”
As they began the slow glide downward, Berent saw Wolfe turn and point down, and realized he had also seen them. Berent lapsed into thought, wondering what was happening below them in the deep woods.
Much of the village’s dark and melancholy aspect was due to design. An extensive forest of huge, looming trees surrounded it, and there were few paths through the woods. Only two led to the village and a traveler needed to know the locations of all the ways in to keep from getting lost. As Berent continued to scan the forest, he noticed thinning amid the ancient trees. His eyebrows drew together. Were some of the trees dying?
Within a few moments, they reached the outer walls of Hyrnt. Berent leaned over to take in the village from this new perspective and a sharp curse escaped his lips. Someone had reshaped the entire farking village! He looked again. A huge wall was being erected; work was completed on one side and had started on another. Leyna glanced back at him.
“Look”—he pointed across the compound—”towers are going up at each of the four corners. By the gods, those idiots are closing off the village! Someone purposefully cut down those huge trees to build walls.”
As they flew closer to the ground, Berent’s jaw dropped. His eyes went from one side of the wall to the other, and the astonishment that rushed through him became rage so quickly that his breath hitched. He turned it into a cough, which got him another concerned glance from Leyna.
Didn’t she see them?
Someone—a madly talented yet wrathful artist—had embellished the outer wall with carvings that were deliberately cruel. The stained wood was inscribed with lifelike dragons being slaughtered. The carvings depicted everything from exquisitely precise touches that gave life to the beasts’ faces, to deep, vicious slashes hinting at claws and horns. He saw young and old dragons alike, their figures so realistic that Berent wondered where they had found such an artist. And why had that artist chosen such a disturbing subject; except for a few men—plus those he planned to punish—none of the villagers had ever seen a dragon. That will soon change, he thought angrily.
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