Dragon Chameleon: Episodes 1-4

by Wilson, Sarah K. L.

  Who are these people?

  How should I know who they are?

  I woke up to the attack. They were already here!

  There was a shuffle in the bushes beside me and then a blast of green light lanced toward my friends. The light of the burst lit the face of a man who fired it. He was standing only one rock over from where I crouched. He held out a metal device about the size of my palm, shaped like a metal spider, its legs reaching outward. His hand fit into the spider, like it was made to be held that way.

  He was focused on my friends. He didn’t know I was here ...

  We’re surrounded and they’re closing in.

  They were completely distracted by Saboraak ...

  Hurry!

  I was sick of them turning these weird devices on us. I was sick of not knowing what they were or how they did what they did. I slid slowly towards him, clinging to the shadows as orange and green flames danced in front of us. No one knew I was here ...

  There’s no more time!

  The figures in the shadows were closing in on Saboraak. I watched as a bolt of lightning burst from the perimeter and struck Bataar’s leg. He slumped to the side, but Zyla reached down from Saboraak’s saddle, grabbing his hand and yanking him back upright. She was trying to pull him up the side of the dragon.

  No sudden moves, Tor. Ease your way along. I was so close ...

  A twig snapped, and my quarry spun, raising the spider-device, his eyes widening in the flickering orange and green light.

  I leapt forward with all the speed of my youth and fearlessness, grabbing the spider with both hands and twisting as I rolled to the side. I heard a cracking sound and a yelp, but in the dark it was hard to see clearly.

  We were both on the ground, rolling over dirt and rock. I pulled my arms down. Raised a foot. Found his wrist. Shoved it as hard as I could with my foot while I pulled with my hands. For a moment we were motionless as muscle fought muscle and then his grip broke and I tumbled away, spider in hand.

  Success!

  If you make me wait five more seconds, I am leaving without you! One.

  I scrambled to my feet, running almost before I was upright.

  Two.

  I saw a burst of lighting arching toward me and leapt over it, feet barely gaining enough height to dodge the bolt.

  Shouts filled the air and with them came the snapping, sizzling feeling of lightning all around me.

  Three.

  I leapt over a slumped body on the ground. How did that get there?

  Four.

  Dodged a green fireball. I’m telling you, those things are useless!

  Five.

  I’m here!

  My hand smacked her side playfully as I threw a foot into the stirrup. Bataar was slumped between Zin and Zyla, his head lolling to one side, but they were all strapped in.

  We were in the air before I was the rest of the way on Saboraak’s back, gaining height as I hung from one stirrup.

  Serves you right for wasting time and getting Bataar hurt.

  She was getting better at these four-person launches.

  I told you there was a trick to them.

  Uh oh.

  What?

  Was there another dragon out there?

  Chapter Seven

  I DON’T SENSE ANYONE...

  Well, something was moving in the sky and it wasn’t the fireball that Saboraak just dodged.

  I didn’t dodge it well. It hit my foot.

  It’s surprising they hit anything at all. Those things are terribly inaccurate.

  It hurt! You can be flippant about it when it’s your foot!

  Look! There it was again, something rising in the sky.

  “Do you see that?” Zyla called down to me.

  “It’s not a dragon,” I called back. “I don’t know what it is.”

  Now that we were gaining height, I could see that the flames had spread. The forest fire was working its way toward us, leaping from one clump of bushes to the next. It would be here by morning.

  Magikas combed the foothill we had camped on waiting to launch inaccurate bursts of magic on anything that moved.

  I think they were camped on the other side of the hill. They were there all along. I’m surprised you didn’t notice them sooner. You were keeping watch, right?

  Was my face flushing? It felt hot suddenly.

  “That’s a rug!” Zyla called down. “Are those Magikas sitting on it?”

  Impossible! Rugs didn’t fly!

  It is a rug. And there are two more. I don’t know how fast those things are, but I’m slow with you four on my back.

  “They’re blocking our route northwest!” Zyla called. “Can your dragon outmaneuver them?”

  The nearest carpet crackled with light and then the Magika at the front of it – was that the front? – lifted his hands and lightning shot toward us. Saboraak shuddered.

  That hurt!

  Quick! Fly down the hill from our camp until you see a cluster of rock with a bunch of deadfall at the center.

  What? That’s heading towards danger! I won’t do it. I’ve never been hurt so many times as since I met you. I need to stay with the Whites for a month!

  Listen to me! I have a plan!

  Your plans always involve ridiculous risks!

  My arm was getting sore holding the strap and dangling from the stirrup and her last dodge had left me flapping in the wind in a way I didn’t even like to think of. Worse, that Magika was lifting his lightning-hands again. How could I get Saborak to trust me?

  Ask!

  Trust me!

  I felt her mental sigh.

  Where are these rocks?

  A second flash of lightning crackled toward us and Saboraak swung wildly. I couldn’t prevent a very unmanly screech as the stirrup swung outward and my grip slid a hand’s width down the strap I was clutching.

  Skies and stars! I can do the flying, but I can’t hold on for you, too. Take some responsibility – for your own life, if nothing else!

  Demanding, arrogant, self-righteous dragon!

  Silly boy!

  There it was! I could see the heaps of deadwood below me. I wouldn’t be able to get a dragon into the crack in the rock, but if she burned through that wood ...

  She was flaming before I explained my idea, her steady stream of yellow-hot flame ripping through fallen logs, rotting branches, and dead leaves. After a moment, the netting below gave way and the deadfall dropped in a free-fall of burning wood, popping sparks, and wet debris.

  Follow it down!

  Saboraak dove and I gritted my teeth as the stirrup followed her movements. It felt like I was falling, too.

  You sent me down a dead end!

  Go through the door!

  “What is this place?” Zyla asked from up in the saddle. She had her hands full keeping Bataar and Zin safely in place. As usual, Zin didn’t seem to even know where she was. And Zyla had to push and pull her and the unconscious Bataar back into place every time Saboraak moved.

  We needed to find a place to get these two some help before they dragged us down so far we never recovered.

  Lightning hit the rock wall beside us as Saboraak made a wobbling landing on the edge of the dais. I glanced upward and fought the instinct to duck as I saw three rectangles blocking the bright moonlight above. How many of those carpets did they have?

  “We’re getting out!” I called to Zyla. “Hold on tight!”

  Trapped!

  Just go through the flaming arch!

  It’s not flaming. It’s made of stone.

  Flaming is a curse word you dense, flaming dragon!

  I think your language gets worse under stress. And for the record, I object to your choice of curse. I ‘flame’ things and you benefit from that.

  Just go through the door!

  The rectangles were getting bigger as they descended, lighting crackling down from them and striking the dais around us. If she didn’t hurry, we were going to get hit any time now...
/>   It’s going to be tight! Hang on!

  Saboraak crept forward and I tried not to gasp as her head and shoulders disappeared. Zyla made a strangled sound in her throat but her expression was determined. She forced Zin and Bataar’s heads down, so they wouldn’t hit the top of the door.

  I finally did gasp as they went through into oblivion and then I moaned as the doorframe scraped across my back. Agh! I was going to come loose! I redoubled my grip, pressing my face into Saboraak’s side and hoping we could squeeze through. The breath was knocked out of me and I felt as though I was being wrung of every drop of blood and then burning pain washed over me followed by an icy burst of wind.

  We were through!

  Almost.

  Pain struck my heel and I reeled from it, my body temporarily frozen and my grip on the leather strap loosening for just a second. A second was too much.

  I fell away from Saboraak’s side.

  Chapter Eight

  I WAS YANKED BACK – suddenly – by my cloak around my throat. I fought for a strangled breath as my hand fumbled for the strap again. There! I grabbed it with both hands and the pressure on my throat eased.

  “Almost lost you there,” Zyla said from above me. Her face was pale. She must have amazing reflexes to have caught me so quickly.

  Saboraak spun and dove suddenly, her neck arching around and her jaws snapping at something below us.

  Do you still want this spidery thing?

  Yes! Wait – why didn’t you grab me when I was falling?

  Zyla is a very capable woman. She didn’t need my help.

  My heel was throbbing painfully. I had a bad feeling that the burn was severe.

  Don’t be a baby. You didn’t let me whine about my burnt foot.

  Skies and stars, it flaming hurt!

  Language!

  I looked down, trying to distract myself, and then immediately regretted it.

  Oh.

  Oh.

  Oh.

  We were very high up.

  Maybe my shortness of breath wasn’t just from being strangled by my own cloak. Icy air bit into every inch of my skin from hair to that flaming heel.

  I give up. Just remember. Words shape us. The ones we use shape the way we see the world and what we value and those things shape our very souls.

  It was just a word. A useful word for channeling anger and frustration.

  And your soul is just your soul. But it’s the only one you get. Guard it well.

  Beneath us – far beneath us – white plains lapped at the edge of the mountains and a hazy blue and white horizon drifted off to the wide expanse beyond. But up here we flew between the peaks of a delicate crown of mountains. There must be a hundred peaks – their tops craggy and white with snow. The nearest three seemed to be smoking. I squinted at them through light-blinded eyes. The rising sun glittered diamond-bright off the white-crusted shards of mountaintop.

  “Legendary Ko’Koren,” Zyla breathed from above me.

  “I thought we were going to Ko’Loska,” I said. But none of us had bargained for that arch, had we?

  “We were,” Zyla agreed. “But this is even better. I know someone here who will hide us and send word to Hubric on our behalf. The further we penetrate into the depths of Ko’Torenth, the better, and it will be easier to hide a dragon here. Ko’Koren is the heart of Ko’Torenth culture, a city known for arts and trade. There will be visiting Dominion dragons here, sentries from Baojang, oosquer of the Kav’ai and adelini of the Westlands. Saboraak can hide among them.”

  I swallowed.

  A city.

  A huge city to be learned and conquered. I would plunder her secrets. I couldn’t keep the excitement out of my mind any more than I could keep my lungs from burning in the cold. I leaned in close to Saboraak, trying to absorb her heat.

  There was a cry from behind us and I looked back. On the mountainside behind us, I could still make out the small doorway on the edge of the cliff, at the very peak of the mountain. A carpet loaded with Magikas was crossing through – but whatever they used to fly it failed as it rolled through the doorway. It crumpled, a normal carpet once again, leaving its cargo to fall to earth. The Magikas fell, looking like tiny specks as they disappeared into the blue haze below.

  I swallowed down bile and looked up at Zyla. Her face was green.

  “Which of those mountains is the city?” I asked faintly. All three peaks were smoking – from fires, I guessed now. And all three had structures clinging to them, like barnacles on a rock. I’d seen a sea-rock with barnacles being sold as an oddity in Vanika once.

  “All three,” Zyla said, her voice shaking. We didn’t turn around when the second set of screams began. We didn’t want to see that. After all, we couldn’t stop it and we couldn’t catch them even if we wanted to.

  I can barely carry four. Don’t ask me to do more.

  I wasn’t asking. Boy, she was touchy.

  It’s my conscience. I don’t do well with needless death. There should be something I can do.

  Why? It wasn’t her responsibility. We could only be responsible for ourselves. And even then, well, accidents happened.

  Compassion means taking responsibility for all other people.

  Ugh. That sounded awful.

  It will make you a fuller person.

  Or a deader person. No one could live like that.

  I disagree.

  I sighed. “Which peak should we aim for, Zyla?”

  “The closest one.” Her voice was very certain. “That’s Eski. The other two are Ziu and Balde. The three peaks of Ko’Koren.”

  “Is that where your contact is?”

  “No. It’s the closest place to not freezing to death, which I think should be our main priority right now.”

  Agreed.

  “Is your dragon slowing down?” she asked.

  Yes. The cold makes it hard to fly.

  Skies and flaming stars! Out of one mess and into another!

  I warned you about your language!

  Chapter Nine

  “WE SHOULD STOP OFF somewhere quickly along the way and pull on that Kav’ai clothing,” Zyla said after long minutes.

  “Why?” I asked. “If there are people of the Dominion here, and Saboraak can’t change anything but her color, then why change what we are wearing?”

  “If she stays a pale grey and we cover the front of her head, and if we sneak through a back way into the city so that no one gets a good look, she can pass as an oosquer.”

  “I still don’t know what those are.”

  “They’re hard to explain. Ask the dragon if she would please set down on a mountainside - if she can.”

  There’s nowhere to set down and I need to take the shortest route to the city. I’m worried I can’t fly even that far. Can you put on your disguises while we fly?

  “She says we’ll have to get dressed on here,” I said.

  Zyla sighed. “Then you’re going to have to climb up behind me. I can’t reach into those saddlebags and hold these two in place at the same time. Bataar’s not doing well. He’s going to need a sickbed when we arrive.”

  Scrambling up onto the back of a dragon from the stirrup while she’s flapping like an eagle with a tick burrowing in his neck was no easy matter. To my embarrassment, I needed help from Zyla.

  “Grab me around the waist, it’s the only way you’ll be able to get your leg up.”

  I tried to reach for a far strap. I really shouldn’t be grabbing her waist or any other part of her. Especially not when that waist looked like the absolute perfect size for my hands. I swallowed.

  “Stop being so thick-headed and just do it,” Zyla insisted.

  I lifted my leg up behind her, wiggling to try to reach it further, but I really did need to hold on to something if I was going to swing up on to the saddlebags behind her. She sighed, shifting Bataar to one arm and then grabbing my wrist with her other hand. She planted it on her far hip.

  “Grip here and use it for leverage!”<
br />
  I felt my cheeks growing hot – far too hot in this frigid, icy air.

  Even I can feel the blood rushing to your head. Cool down, Tor. You’re climbing a flying dragon, not asking a girl to dance.

  I didn’t know of any dances that would end with me tucked in so close and with my hand on her hip.

  Don’t humans have any fun?

  Surprise distracted me for just long enough that my muscles worked on their own. I slid into place and then pulled my hand back like it had been bitten. It still felt warm from her touch. Maybe one day ...

  Just find what we’re looking for in those saddle bags! We’ll worry about your mating dance later.

  No one said anything about a mating dance! Now my cheeks were throbbing from blushing so hard.

  What kind of dance were you thinking about, then?

  A social dance! People danced in the city square on Sata Day and High Spring.

  Dragons only have one kind of dance.

  Earth swallow me! I wasn’t safe from women anywhere!

  I fumbled in the saddlebag and pulled out the over-stuffed satchel.

  “I’m surprised you all remembered to gather this in the excitement,” I said, reaching into it to pull out a loose hooded tunic, heavily embroidered and woven of a coarse fabric.

  “We didn’t leave anything behind,” Zyla said, turning to look at the tunic. When she looked down her dark eyelashes looked longer than usual and when she looked back up, they shaded her cat-like eyes in a way that made me swallow all over again.

  “Is this for you or me?” I asked.

  “It would be best on Zin. If I dress her as a Zyvaar, no one will ask any questions if she doesn’t speak. Here. Pass it to me.”

  “What’s a Zyvaar?”

  “One of the silent practitioners of the Kav’ai ceremonies,” Zyla answered. “Here, Zin, wear this.”

  Her sister obeyed silently, looking off into the distance as if she hadn’t heard at all, even though she was complying.

  “What’s wrong with her?” I asked. I needed to know and there was no delicate way to ask. If we were going to sneak into this city, then we had to plan around ... whatever.