Dragon Space

by Jeffrey A. Carver

  Well . . . no . . . The rigger flickered.

  No—never! You have been listening to lies! Hodakai! Where is she? Where is the rigger?

  Hodakai flared with uncertainty. Windrush couldn't tell if he was thinking for himself again or not. How would I know? he whispered plaintively.

  You know she's here! What else do you know?

  Well, I—yes, but—

  Windrush rose enormous in the underrealm window. Hodakai, do not test me further! If you intend to stand against me, say so!

  The rigger-spirit quailed. I—NO! I don't know! That is—

  That sounded more like the old Hodakai. Windrush sighed wearily. Tell me what you know, he growled.

  Hodakai was almost cowering. Very little! Really!

  Tell me what you know.

  Well, I—just that she's been captured.

  Captured! Windrush tried to disguise his anguish. Tell me where!

  How would I know? You tell me one thing, Rent tells me another! Rent said she was coming to enslave me.

  Rent! Windrush cried. Whoever he is, he's a liar! Think about it! Think! Why would a rigger come here just to enslave you?

  I—well—it's not that—I mean, Rent is a rigger too. Of course, he . . . I . . . Hodakai's voice choked off into inaudibility.

  Windrush was so angry that he reflexively vented flame over the spirit jar—meaning it not so much for Hodakai as for this Rent, whoever he was. The flame-image passed harmlessly over Hodakai's kuutekka, but startled him nonetheless. Windrush asked tightly, Where is the rigger now? Where has she been captured?

  Hodakai struggled to put words together. She arrived—somewhere in the south mountains—that's all I know. That's really—all I know!

  Windrush stared at the spirit-flame. If that was true—if Jael had arrived in the southern mountains, if there was even the slightest chance that Hodakai was telling the truth—then he should send every dragon he could spare, to look for her. Except, how could he spare any? For an aimless search through the southern mountains?

  Hodakai sniffed. So—you got it out of me. What you do with it is your problem. But you should also know . . .

  Windrush waited.

  You should know . . . Hodakai said slowly, but as though he were winding up to something. Suddenly he burst out, Your cause is hopeless! Hopeless! The Nail has everything he needs to complete his plan. The Words will be fulfilled, and you will never see your Dream Mountain again. Unless . . .

  Unless what? Windrush growled.

  Hodakai's flame quieted. Unless you surrender now.

  Windrush stared at the spirit.

  Hodakai spoke again, his voice like a chant: No hope. Unless you surrender. Unless you give it up.

  The dragon hissed. Who told you to say that? Rent?

  Hodakai became agitated, but didn't answer.

  What else do you know that you're not saying?

  I—The spirit-flame trembled violently in his jar. I've said too much already! I CAN'T STAND THIS ANY LONGER! I've told you what I was supposed to! Now, get out of here, dragon—before they come!

  Windrush glared at the spirit, trying to understand what Hodakai was really saying. He didn't think anyone was coming; but someone, not Hodakai, had wanted him to hear the words he had just heard. Well—he'd heard them.

  If they find you here, they'll kill me! Hodakai screeched, jittering madly in his jar. Go! GO!

  Windrush nodded slowly. He would get nothing further from Hodakai now. He drew away; but before leaving the spirit's space, he rumbled, Don't deceive me again, Hodakai. If you hear word of that rigger, I expect you to tell me!

  Without waiting for an answer, he departed. But his last impression was of a spirit who was sorely, sorely troubled.

  * * *

  Windrush stared at the last underrealm window, knowing that he must look there tonight. But suppose it led him to another battle in the underrealm! He was already so weary! Before he risked that, he desperately needed to rest.

  Before he could even make his decision, he dropped off into a deep, dreamless sleep. But at some point, probably before dawn, he awoke with a start. An iffling was floating before him, little more than a flicker of luminosity in the air.

  Windrush blinked groggily. "I wondered if I would ever see you again," he murmured.

  We have not forgotten you, Windrush, whispered the iffling. But our strength is failing. It is difficult.

  "Do you have news of Jael?" Windrush heard his own voice strain into near inaudibility.

  We know only that something . . . has gone wrong.

  Windrush remembered with a shudder his conversation with Hodakai. "Has the Enemy captured her?"

  The flame flickered. We are unsure. We have sensed treachery . . . a false-one.

  "A false-iffling?" Windrush nodded slightly. "I have heard of it."

  Then you know, perhaps, as much as we. The iffling seemed to have to struggle to remain visible. One child of ours . . . lives. We feel it. But we can do nothing to help it.

  "Do you know where?" Windrush asked quickly.

  To the south . . . we think. We cannot be sure. We can only . . . trust in our last . . . child. And in Jael herself.

  The dragon's breath escaped in a rush. "What have you come to tell me, then? Is there anything I can do?"

  Search, if you can. The iffling almost went dark, then brightened a little. And the last window. Do not forget it. Have not the sweepers been trying to tell you?

  Windrush blinked, startled. The sweepers? He glanced and saw a new scale-sculpture perched on the hearth. It looked like . . . a misshapen tree, he thought. He had no idea what it meant. "I have not forgotten the window," he said at last. "I was about to try it. Do you think it will offer guidance to finding Jael?"

  We cannot say. Perhaps not. We only believe . . . that FullSky meant this for you . . . for a purpose. The iffling faded, and for a moment Windrush thought it was gone. But it flickered back into visibility just for a moment, in the cavern gloom. Windrush, we must hope together.

  And as if that last whisper had exhausted the iffling's strength, it vanished for good.

  Windrush stared uncertainly at the spot where the iffling had been. Then, with a last, puzzled glance at the sweeper's sculpture, he closed his eyes and sank again into the underrealm.

  * * *

  Perhaps because it was the last thing he'd looked at in the outer world, the sculpture's presence was the first thing he saw in the underweb. It was very small; he wondered if these things had been here all along. It looked only a little different here, more shadowy and asymmetrical. One branch of its "tree" made him think of a pointing claw. When he followed the direction in which it was pointing, he was startled to see it aimed directly at the fourth and last window.

  Amazed, he turned and entered the window.

  He encountered, at once, a smell that made him think of the sea—the tang of salt. Then sunlight filled his eyes, and his kuutekka materialized on wing, high over hills and woods and lowlands. Without understanding why, he found himself flying fast, toward the sun, over a metallic band of river that wound through the lowlands, and on through wetlands, toward a sunset glow at the horizon. The tang of the sea grew stronger. What was it that was drawing him on? He whispered FullSky's name, but heard no answer. It seemed that he was alone here.

  Ahead of him now was a vast gleaming expanse of water, a pool that stretched out as far as he could see, to the sunset. It was the sea. But there was . . . something more than that, too.

  He wasn't sure why he felt that, until the shoreline passed beneath him. And then something materialized in midair, high above the sea . . . something massive and magnificent. He knew at once that it was the Dream Mountain, high in the air, floating on a wispy layer of cloud. It looked as though it were made of glass, and within it, a bright white fire burned. He ached to fly to it. But he already felt something deflecting him from it, even before he could draw closer. The spells of the Enemy, he thought.

  Why had FullSk
y brought him here? To give him hope? It broke his heart to see the Dream Mountain, and to know that it was beyond reach. But something else was tugging at him, a feeling that there was something missing here. Not the Dream Mountain, but something else—a feeling that the window was not yet ready for him to see all that it had to show him.

  FullSky? he whispered, but still there was no answer.

  He banked and circled, uncertain what to do.

  As he tried to decide, he realized that the sea and sky and mountain were dissolving around him. He felt the window gently closing, the underrealm darkening around him. The time was not yet right, it seemed to be saying. He felt a stab of disappointment that it had not helped him to find Jael—but also a hint of reassurance, as though the underrealm itself were saying, there will be more to come.

  But what? he wondered wearily. And when?

  Back in his cavern, he was about to emerge from the underweb altogether, when he heard his name. The voice sounded very distant, and urgent. Farsight? he called back. Was his brother trying to reach him from the main encampment?

  Windrush . . . at once if you . . . come at once . . . ! Farsight's undervoice sounded like the hissing of water on sand, and faded like a retreating wave.

  Windrush called out an answer, but he sensed that Farsight was already gone from the underweb. His brother had no stamina for underspeaking; he must have just managed to shout out across the distance. Sighing, Windrush opened his eyes to the gloom of his cavern. His interrupted rest would have to wait a little longer.

  He tugged at the exit spells and launched himself into the dawn sky.

  * * *

  "There was no warning—just an eruption of turbulence and dense storm clouds," Farsight said, swinging his head one way and then another, his diamond eyes flashing angrily, as though by force of will he would see to the ends of the realm. All around them in the camp, dragons were muttering in bewilderment and fury. Three lumenis groves had been attacked—but by sorcery, rather than by drahls. The groves had simply vanished into the Enemy's storms, and with them the dragons who had been inside them maintaining the guardian spells. Of those posted outside the groves, Farsight said, "When it was over, they just couldn't find the groves anymore. It was as if they had never existed."

  Windrush fumed in frustration. "Was there no sign of them? Have you sent others to look?"

  "Of course. But no—even the land that the groves grew on has vanished, and the realm has closed up around the empty spaces. And Windrush—the Grotto Garden, too! Treegrower, the egg, Greystone—all gone!"

  Windrush drew a painful breath. Those groves were vital to the realm's survival. And the Grotto Garden! The last egg outside the Dream Mountain! His heart burned with the loss. What better way for the Enemy to strike at the dragon soul? He thought he knew what had happened. The Enemy had seized the groves just as he had seized Dream Mountain, probably using the power that Windrush had observed him tapping in the Deep Caverns. Windrush had imagined that they would pay for that loss eventually. But so soon?As he peered around the encampment, he was beginning to realize that the time he had long feared was at last upon them. Too many lumenis groves were gone now. No longer could they continue to hold on, and hope. No longer could they search in vain for the Dream Mountain, or wait for Jael to appear—Words or no Words. He would send a patrol to search the south mountains, but the dragons could wait for Jael no longer. Too few groves remained to sustain them. They faced starvation and certain death if they did not fly against the Enemy.

  "The time has come, hasn't it?" he murmured, gazing westward, toward the mountains and plains that lay between the held land and the Dark Vale. "We must gather our strength—and fight, this time to the end."

  He sensed Farsight nodding, but he also heard another rasping breath, and he turned to see SearSky, eyes and nostrils glowing. "You've not given me much time for training," the black dragon rumbled. "Did I not say that we should worry about the lumenis, rather than your places of magic?"

  Windrush vented smoke. "It is no accident, SearSky, that we lost these groves after we lost the Deep Caverns. The Enemy's power has grown with his victory there."

  SearSky snorted. "Then let us destroy him while we still have the strength to fly! Or would you rather we wasted away?"

  "I agree," Windrush said, cutting him off. "We need your help now, more than ever. We will all feed, upon whatever lumenis remains. We will need all of our strength. Those who have gone the longest without lumenis will feed first."

  SearSky seemed surprised to hear Windrush agree with him. "When do we fly?"

  "Upon my command."

  "Do you think they will still follow you?"

  "Let us hope so." Windrush glanced at Farsight, and back at SearSky. "When this battle is done, they may follow whomever they wish."

  "If any are still alive."

  "If any are still alive," Windrush agreed. His voice hardened. "Until then, we fly on my command! We will take this battle to the Enemy! SearSky, are you with me?"

  SearSky growled flame into the sky. "Can you doubt it? Take the battle to the Enemy!"

  "To the Enemy!" Farsight agreed, matching gazes with his brother.

  "Then call the leaders," Windrush said. And he added silently, to himself, Let us hope we find Jael before we all take flight to the Final Dream Mountain.

  Chapter 32

  In the Cavern of Spirits

  JAEL'S MOVEMENTS, even the smallest gestures, felt ponderous as she floated with the false-iffling through the mountains, like a seed on the wind. She didn't know where they were going, and almost didn't care anymore. It wasn't just the exhaustion of being in the net so long; she was drugged by the spell in which Jarvorus had ensnared her. The false-iffling was always present now, stirring in her thoughts, and peering out through her eyes, much as Ed had done earlier. At times it was difficult to distinguish her own intentions from Jarvorus's.

  Once or twice, she had tried to penetrate further into the false-iffling's thoughts, to learn what exactly it wanted, and why, and even what kind of a being it was. But its thoughts were slippery, like ice; she could find no purchase or place to penetrate and gain understanding. Sometimes she almost thought she detected a glint of sympathy in its thoughts; but every time she looked for it again, it was gone.

  They were coming up on a small valley tucked in the midst of a seemingly endless parade of bleak, icy mountain peaks. Before she could gather her slow-moving thoughts to ask, she realized that they were drifting downward toward it. She wondered what was there.

  Jarvorus's voice drifted through her mind. (A place where you will be safe, until your time comes.)

  She accepted that statement dimly. With the presence of this creature in her mind, she felt more helpless and alone than ever. She knew that her shipmates were still here, in the splintered net, but the confining bands of Javorus' spell kept them isolated from her. At times, she could hear Ar's voice faintly, but she felt restrained from answering him. Ed, too, had been barred from her presence. After several futile attempts to bite and claw through the binding, the parrot had given up in weary discouragement. Now he was huddled, despondently waiting for something to happen.

  It seemed clear that her shipmates would be unable to help. But there was, at the outermost edge of her hearing, one other voice—like Jarvorus's, and yet different. It was the true-iffling, she believed. Its words were hard to make out, but it seemed to be saying, Remember . . .

  Remember what? she wondered.

  As persistently, and quietly, Jarvorus seemed to be telling her to forget. But she did remember, foggily. She remembered who she was, and her mission. She remembered Windrush and his need.

  (The need is for the struggle to end,) murmured her captor. (That is the destiny for which you have come. Windrush is nothing. What matters is the new beginning. It is the only thing. . . .)

  Did she detect the faintest trembling of doubt in his voice? Jael felt adrift in her confusion. She knew there was some truth to the words of t
he false-iffling. The Words spoke of a new beginning. She had no idea how she was supposed to achieve that. Upon that one's death is the ending wrought. A layer of fear settled around her, like molasses. Was it possible, as Jarvorus said, that her friends here did not matter so much as the ultimate need to bring the realm's struggle to an end?

  She would do anything for her friends.

  Including die for them?

  For her friends . . . perhaps . . . as she had been willing to die for Highwing, when he'd been cast out of the realm. But just to bring the struggle to an end? Even if it meant the other side winning? No, she whispered to herself. That made no sense.

  Somewhere in the net she felt that Ar was listening, and she clung to a hope that somehow, somehow, he would find a way to help her come to the right understanding.

  Remember . . . whispered a distant, lonely, voice. Remember. . . .

  (Forget,) commanded Jarvorus.

  Jael and the spaceship settled into the valley.

  * * *

  What now? Jael breathed. She was on foot again, with the ship on her back. She stood before a dark opening in the side or a mountain, and Jarvorus apparently intended for her to walk in.

  Her feet moved, in wordless answer to her question. Soon they were inside a narrow, twisty passage that seemed to lead deep into the mountain. Just a few rays of light filtered in from above. She felt an oppressive and dizzying weight towering over her. As she walked farther into the gloom, the passage suddenly opened up into a great, vaulting space. It was an enormous cave, something like Windrush's cavern, but larger and starker, and more coldly unfriendly. There was a yellowish light glowing from off to her right, near the wall, and she walked toward it, across the stone floor. As she drew close, she saw, perched on a recessed ledge, a strangely shaped vessel that appeared to be filled with a glowing liquid.

  (This,) Jarvorus murmured, (is the Cavern of Spirits. You will be safe here, with one of your fellow riggers. Like you, he has been deceived and exploited by the dragons.)