At her back, Ar was maintaining the fine-tuning of the flux-pile and the stability of the ship. Ed was perched nearby, watching eagerly for signs of giant lizards. It's a long mountain range, Ar remarked. The topography could be deceptive. Are you sure that we're downrange of the area you flew through, before?
She shook her head. I can't really be sure of anything. Except that there is someone who will hear me, and answer. But was she even sure of that? Who knew what length of time had passed here in the Flux, while she had carried on her life on the outside? Suppose Highwing had grown old and died . . .
She deflected the thought. Can we angle off to the starboard, toward that pass we saw earlier? It looked like an easier way through. Unfortunately, the winds were unfavorable for moving in that direction. But no matter which way they flew there would be difficulties and hazards.
Ar agreed, and the ship turned, coming to the new heading like a sailing ship beating into the wind. They continued moving steadily, if more slowly. As the peaks drew closer, she shouted again: THIS IS JAEL, FRIEND OF HIGHWING! and again her voice echoed back to her, attenuated by the distance.
Rrrrraww. Smell glizzards there, Ed muttered. He had his head craned to the starboard, toward the north of the pass, as they'd denoted the directions here. Jael watched him uneasily, wondering if his observation was serious, or just wishful.
There was a late afternoon haze in the air, obscuring distant details. Perhaps that was why she didn't see them until they were startlingly large against the slopes: dragons, at least half a dozen, wheeling and banking to close on the intruder, the spaceship. Jael's heart almost stopped as she focused on the living shapes. Ar—!
A tongue of flame billowed in their path. A great-winged reptile swept past in front of them. A dark-jeweled eye rotated to peer in their direction, glinting with unreadable intent.
As the creature veered away, Jael cried out frantically: I'm seeking Highwing! Where is Windrush-Wingtouch-Highwing—Terror-of-the-Last-Peak?
The air erupted with a thunderous commotion as the dragons reacted to her cry. They flew one way and another around the riggers, rumbling and billowing fire. Jael sensed Ar's alarm. Ed was beside himself, squawking, Graggons, graggons! Jael was speechless; this was hardly what she'd been expecting. The dragons, too many and too fast to follow, swarmed closer and closer, filling the air with smoke and fire. She remembered now that this was how it had happened the first time, until she'd made peace with Highwing. Perhaps she could make peace again.
Please! she shouted. We want to talk to you!
A gnarled-faced dragon wheeled around from the front. Jael started to speak—but a billow of flame and sparks erupted in her face and a voice rumbled in her mind, DO YOU THINK TO MEDDLE AGAIN IN THIS PLACE, RIGGER? The dragon sheared away, rocking the net with turbulence. Jael gasped, struggling to maintain control.
No! she yelled. Ar, be ready for a fight! Fireproof us! Ed, stay behind me and be still!
As he assisted Jael in strengthening the bubble of the net that surrounded them, Ar asked worriedly, Jael, what's going on? Are these real, or are they from your memory?
Were they real? she thought in anguish. Of course they were! And yet—she remembered her false image of Mogurn, and just for an instant, doubted. Could this all be a manifestation of her own fears? Highwing! she cried out desperately, hoping to drive fear from her thoughts.
Another blast of flame splashed over the net, and a great dark shape rocked them as it flew past. Begone! it snorted contemptuously.
Or do you think yourself a guest here? laughed another, passing just as close.
Fear began to give way to anger. We are here to see Highwing! she shouted, as Ar strained to hold the net firm. She was well aware of their reduced strength in the net and had no idea how long they could survive a real attack.
A new voice seemed to echo from the cliffs. IF YOU HAVE COME TO SPEAK THAT ACCURSED NAME, THEN YOU TOO WILL DIE!
Jael shivered, and following Ar's push on the stern-position, helped him veer away from two dragons that were rising from below. The creatures shot upward, past them, as Seneca rolled into a dive. Flames blossomed around them, but only for an instant. Jael, we have to know! Ar shouted. Is this real or isn't it?
REEEL! IT'S REEEL! Ed shrieked, taking flight over their heads. TERRIBLE! TERRIBLE! FLY AWAY! FLY AWAY!
Ed, stay down, damn it! Jael shouted. Yes, it's real! I don't know what's wrong! She did not dare cry out for Highwing again. The best thing she could do was to get them out of here. But how? Above them soared a sky fall of dragons. The horizon offered only barren peaks where they would be as vulnerable as lambs. Below them loomed cliffs and jagged slopes, and they were moving too fast to spy a hiding place, even if one existed.
I'm changing the image, Ar said, and Jael offered no objection. She felt a moment of lightheadedness, and her vision blurred perilously—they were too damned close to those rocks now!
She heard a squawk. That way! That way! Hrawwwk!
Ed flew down toward the rocks, and the landscape shimmered and became solid again, unaltered. It won't change, Ar said, and his voice was calm, but tinged with fear.
No, Jael whispered. This is the landscape that is. But if we can't change it, we can change ourselves instead! She swallowed and looked up, where the dragons were circling—and saw them peeling off one by one to dive for the attack. We've got to make ourselves smaller, and find a place to hide.
This way! Ed screamed, batting back up toward them and spinning in midair to dive again.
Jael didn't hesitate, and Ar was right behind her. They wrapped the net tightly around themselves; the three of them and Seneca became as one—a hawk speeding toward a crevice in the nearby cliff. The parrot led the way flawlessly; he was terrified, but his keen eyes brought them directly into the narrow opening. The cliff seemed to swallow them, as a splash of flame seared their tail.
An angry dragon raked at the outside of the crevice with its claws. IF YOU WOULD BE OUR GUEST, THEN COME WITH US! it bellowed raucously, its voice reverberating through the stone. But they were out of reach now, in a narrow cave that seemed to extend far back into the mountain.
They sped onward, transforming themselves into a bat, seeking the deepest recesses of the cavern. Was there an end to this cave, this fracture in the mountain? Jael couldn't tell. Ed urged them onward into the darkness. A stream of dank air flowed past, chilling Jael to the bone.
Eventually they slowed, to rest and gather their wits. Jael, trembling, whispered silently to herself: Highwing are you here? Are you anywhere? And to Ar: Maybe we can go all the way through to the other side of the mountain, and then we can . . . and she ran out of words, because in fact she had absolutely no idea what they could do, even if they succeeded in passing through the mountain.
Ar was very close to her in the net, his voice calming. They knew Highwing's name, Jael! They knew it. But they hated it. Why?
Yes—why? she thought. She had reacted with such alarm to the immediate peril that she had not focused on what the dragons had said: You too will die. . . .
My God, she whispered. Had Highwing died, then—killed by his own kind? Or were they threatening to kill him? Ar, if those were enemies of Highwing . . . if it was something that I did. . . .
She hesitated, feeling a terrible dread. She remembered suddenly the moment in which she had given Highwing her name, and the tremors that had shaken the mountains in response. She felt as though those tremors were echoing inside her right now. She remembered that Highwing had said there would be trouble because of what he had done, in befriending her. If he was in danger now because of her . . . Ar, is it possible—do you think there is any way that we could—? Her voice caught, and she couldn't finish the question. But she knew this: if Highwing was in danger, she could not just leave and pretend she hadn't known.
It was obvious that Ar understood her intent. Jael, what could we possibly do to help your friend? We're in terrible danger ourselves. And we don't even know wh
ere he is.
Their eyes met in the gloom of the net. Jael wished she could somehow will him to understand how deeply her heart went out to Highwing, and how much she would risk for the friend who had helped her so. But she could find no words.
They were gliding slowly through the darkness, twisting and turning to follow the narrow passage. She could sense the stone passing close by on either side of them, and was grateful for Ed's sharp eyes and instincts. The parrot was completely absorbed in finding a way through this labyrinth of darkness. They passed a patch of wall that glowed dimly, perhaps from phosphorescent lichen or moss. It was an eerie sight, and she shivered as she turned to watch the ghostly light disappearing behind them. I know we're in danger, she said finally, her voice echoing softly. But I owe him, Ar. More than I can say. If there's any way I can help him, I have to try.
When Ar didn't answer immediately, she took his silence as deliberation. There was a change in him, and she thought she knew what it was. It was that he believed her now. He had seen the dragons, seen their fury—not as a tale, but as reality. And he wanted to get away from it; he didn't like the dragon reality, didn't like it at all. But now, it seemed, they would have to make some choices. And her choices might not be the same as his.
She had no idea how far they had traveled through the body of the mountain, when Ed squawked, fluttering his wings, Aarrk. Coming out, coming out.
Jael peered ahead, and indeed there was a vague lessening of the darkness, and a fresher smell to the air. But would dragons be waiting for them on the outside? We must be very careful coming out. I suggest we stay small, until we know we are in the clear. Ar didn't answer, and she assumed control as they neared the exit point. The rocks widened, became a gloomy cave, slowly brightening. They were still in the form of a bat, quick and maneuverable in flight.
They emerged from the mountain, gulping in the fresh air, then began a slow, zigzagging flight. They searched the sky in all directions; there were no dragons visible, or anything else living. A smoky red sun was going down behind a line of mountains to their left. They had emerged, apparently, deep within the range. Which way should they go? Toward the sun? That might take them out of the range, Jael thought, out of the dragon realm altogether. She wasn't sure. She hesitated, thinking of Highwing. Peering to the right, she saw nothing in particular, but felt something, a small familiar twinge. She turned that way, on a heading that would take them even deeper into the mountains. Ar followed silently.
* * *
I wish I knew what was happening here, Jael muttered, as they sailed slowly through an evening gathering into night, guided only by starlight and by intuition. I wish I knew what was wrong.
Ar's voice betrayed his tension. One thing I know is that we don't belong in this place. It's not our territory, Jael. And what about our ship? We're responsible for the vessel, you know.
She nodded, but had no answer. She knew that Ar's fear was intensified by his newly shaken assumptions about reality. At least that was what she told herself. Maybe she was endangering her crewmates and ship by proceeding on this heading, but she didn't know that for sure, and she didn't want to think about it. Her concern now was for Highwing. She felt certain that he must be in some terrible danger, that nothing else would have kept him from coming to her. She refused to consider the possibility that he might be dead. And if he was alive, she was determined to find him.
But how? She was afraid to call out again. Something about this place felt fundamentally wrong; she could not tell exactly what, but something in her heart, some intuition told her that this place had somehow been twisted and made wrong. It was not just the behavior of the dragons. She felt it in the air, in the darkness, even in the starlight reflecting off the mountains, and in the clouds scooting overhead; something was not right here. Ed seemed to sense it as well; he seemed quiet but skittish, as though he were expecting sudden disaster. She remembered the dragon magic that Highwing had once shared with her. Now, she thought she sensed another magic, similar in its power maybe, but dark and brooding, a power that did not approve of her presence here. She felt that they were being watched as they flew through these night-shrouded mountains, and she did not like her feeling of what might be watching them.
Highwing would know what to make of it, if he were here. If he could hear her call. Highwing, she whispered, almost silently. Friend of Highwing. And she swallowed, afraid that even that soft murmur would attract the wrong sort of attention.
A massive peak loomed off to the left. Ahead and to starboard, a ridge of peaks seemed to stretch out forever. Ar was humming softly as he steered, wielding the tiller of a sailing ship at sea—a sea of air—riding what breeze there was, as Jael smelled and evaluated the air. Ed was perched beside her, turning his head alertly. Smell something, Ed?
The parrot made a guttural sound, then said distinctly but softly, Lizards. Graggons. Nearby.
Jael felt a chill of fear . . . and hope. Do you know . . . can you sense . . . whether they are friendly or not?
Hraww. Nope. The parrot lifted his beak. Smell them. Close.
Jael sensed Ar taking a deep breath, then settling back. He was no longer humming. He was afraid, she knew—terribly afraid of what she was getting them into. Nevertheless, he was willing to follow. Whatever she did now . . . she was responsible for his life and Ed's, as well as her own. She drew a breath and said, raising her voice just above a whisper, I am Jael, friend of Highwing. Who knows where is Highwing?
The night answered with utter silence.
The dragons came in silence, as well. Ed make a choking sound, and an instant later, Jael saw starlight reflected in the eyes of a great winged serpent as it swept across their bow, shaking them violently. Jael helped Ar to steady the ship, and as she did so, she heard a voice like thunder, calling, DI-I-I-I-I-E-E-E . . . LIKE HIM-M-M . . .
She could not see their foe, or foes, in the night. But she heard a scream of rage—and she and Ar, terrified, drew the net in tight—as a blast of fire lifted them and hurled them downwind. Ar, hold on! I AM A FRIEND OF HIGHWING! she bellowed, knowing that it was stupid and futile.
A dragon shot past, its wingtip catching them and flipping them into a dive, its own body illuminated by a glow of dragon fire. AWAY, BROTHER! Jael heard, as another dragon thundered past, raking the first with flame. She and Ar struggled to pull out of the dive, cursing the sluggishness of the damaged net; and only after they were level again did it register in her mind that she had seen one dragon attacking another!
She turned to look. A pair of gleaming dragon eyes was bearing down on them from above and behind. What do you want? she screamed, ashamed of the fear in her voice, but unable to keep it out.
There was no answer; there was only a dark, reeking wing blotting out the night and enveloping them, with a control so total that there was no hope of escape. Then a voice roared, I CLAIM THESE RIGGERS AS MINE! And in reply, there were loud blasts of fury; but Jael, barely able to see beyond the dragon's wing, thought that she sensed the other creatures veering away, leaving them uncontested to their captor.
She and Ar struggled to free themselves. She felt a flash of hope as the wing opened and the night air washed over them, but the hope vanished again as the dragon caught them with its powerful talons. Jael grunted as the net absorbed the force, and she felt a woolly darkness growing around her as the dragon did something to the space surrounding her.
As she lost sight of the mountains and the night, she heard a dragon's throaty voice murmur, Why do you call out to my father, you foolish riggers?
Chapter 25
Windrush
THEY FLEW on in silence for a time, until Jael recovered her senses. What did you say? Are you . . . is Highwing your father? She felt Ar close to her and Ed trembling nervously under her arm, and the air rushing past, but she could not see where they were going. She was trying hard not to be afraid.
The dragon's voice answered throatily, That depends, I would say.
Depends? On wha
t? she whispered.
On who and what you really are, rigger-demon. I am not so eager to give even my father's name without knowing—
Jael interrupted the dragon, her voice almost failing. I am Jael, friend of Highwing!
The air trembled suddenly, and the curious darkness that had enveloped them fell away. Once more the mountains were visible in the night, beyond the great set of claws that imprisoned them high in the air. Overhead, the dragon's wings beat steadily. The dragon bent its head down to angle a look at them with one green eye. I see. It raised its head again and snorted sparks into the air. Then, Jael, it rumbled softly, I am Windrush, Son of Highwing, and I am grieved and honored to meet you. I shall allow you to see where we are bound.
Windrush! Jael cried, recognizing a part of Highwing's own name.
Quiet! Do not shout my name, or my father's name, again! Nor, if you are wise, your own name.
Jael drew a breath and asked softly. Why? What is happening? Where is your father?
In answer, she heard a soft murmur that was almost like a chuckle, but it seemed to carry no amusement, only sadness. Finally the dragon answered. In time, rigger. In due time, we may speak of that. But first we must reach a place of safety.
We can fly, Jael said.
No. I will bear you. It is safer that way. And I sense, rigger, that you are hampered. Your strength is not all that it might be. The dragon beat his wings harder, gaining altitude. Rest and conserve yourself, and later we will talk about what will become of us. He was silent again for a moment, before adding, And perhaps, in time, I will learn the names of your companions, as well. But until then—
My name is Ar, the Clendornan interrupted, in a low voice. And this is our parrot—
Rawk! Ed! My name Ed!
The dragon peered back down in surprise, losing some altitude as he craned his neck. His eyes glowed briefly. So, he said finally, working to regain the lost altitude. You are indeed a strange and impulsive breed, you riggers. So quickly you decide. So quickly. Do you not know that the giving of your name can open you to your enemies as well as to your friends? He flew in silence for a few moments. I suppose I must follow in my father's error. I am Windrush. Honored and grieved. I had hoped—frankly—that you would not return to this realm, rigger-called-Jael. Why are you here?
Dragon Space Page 25
