A Dragon's Betrayal

by C L Patterson

  Maerek woke in what appeared to be an oversized dungeon cell. The floor, ceiling and three walls were made of stone. There were metal bars with large, barbed spikes pointing into the cell. Maerek stood on all four legs and stared blankly out of his enclosure. The room rocked from side to side and the barbed spikes seemed to be inching closer and closer.

  He tried to stretch his wings for balance but was only able to open them a quarter of the way before hitting the walls. He turned to the left and tried to reposition his body further away from the spikes, but the cell was too small. He was stuck, with just enough room to turn his head and lay down with all four limbs tucked under him. The barbed spikes were spaced just far enough apart for a human to move through and Maerek thought of shifting but decided against it. That would be his last resort.

  He crawled closer to the spikes, now fully aware of his surroundings. Whatever venom was injected into his body had filtered through his system. A dull pain throbbed in his neck and he rubbed the cockatrice bite and claw marks close to it. The air tasted strange. Maerek flicked his tongue over and over again. There was another dragon not far from him, the fresh scent of blood, four cockatrices a good distance to his right, but there was something else. It tasted like a sour fog early in the morning.

  Maerek flicked his tongue rapidly, trying to pin down the source of the smell. It was everywhere in front of him, but not over powering. He crawled a little closer to the barbed gate and the smell grew stronger. Cautiously, he flicked one of the barbs with his tongue and instantly his mouth was filled with an acrid taste. After the taste faded, he flicked his tongue again.

  The metal barbs were poisoned. Maerek knew he had enough strength to break the vertical bars, and the spikes, but the barbs worried him. There was a main barb on each of the spikes, but also smaller barbed points along the edge of the spike. The risk of one small barbed hooking underneath one of his scales was enough to give caution.

  He could barely move in his confined space and in order to escape, he would have to shift. There was no other way for him to escape. He remembered the other dragon that he smelled and flicked his tongue to hone in on its location. It was a male, a generation older than Maerek and he smelled like sea water and charcoal.

  Maerek let out a long, low and deep rumble to catch the other dragon’s attention. Chains rattled close by and Maerek thought he heard a human walking.

  “The other dragon must be in human form,” Maerek thought.

  “Don’t do it,” the other dragon said just soft enough for Maerek to hear. The other dragon pulled on a large chain, the links sounding like waves of metal as they dragged across the stone floor.

  “My family, I need to find them, I need to make sure they’re alive,” Maerek whispered back.

  “Shhhh!” the other dragon hissed. “Speak nothing of it. Many of your keep were brought back, dead. You were the only one allowed to live.”

  “I need to find them!” Maerek hissed back. The four cockatrices wouldn’t be an issue as soon as he made it past the gate. He had to be quick. He fumed smoke out of his nose.

  “No, don’t!” The chains rattled near the dragon again, and Maerek heard the metal chain go taught. A couple moments later, Maerek was naked in human form and was sliding through the gate, keeping clear of the metal barbs.

  Halfway through the gate, a cockatrice flapped next to him, lowered its head, and shrieked. Maerek covered his ears and shimmied further out of the cage. The cockatrice hissed and raked its talons across the bars. Two other cockatrices joined him and the three let out a cacophony of shrieks. The sound was too much. Maerek’s vision blurred and his body went limp like a rag doll.

  Maerek could still see and hear but lost complete control over his body. He wanted to run, to fight, to change, but all of his will power was gone. Hatred, fear, and loss filled his mind. He breathed in and out over and over again, trying to calm the Instinct while he lay on the stone ground between the metal spikes.

  Two people walked on either side of him, grabbed him by the legs and dragged him back into the cage and threw him against the wall. They were some of the hunters Maerek had seen in the group before he killed Yacobsen. Three other hunters from outside the cell dragged in a length of metal chains with links the size of a man’s forearms. A metal collar was clamped around Maerek’s neck and both wrists. A chain connected the cuffs on his wrist, another chain connected the shackles on his wrists to metal collar around his neck, and another chain tethered the metal collar to the back wall.

  “You’re sure this chain is going to hold him?” one of the hunters asked.

  “We were promised it would,” the leader said. “And they have never failed us, so I won’t question it, and neither will you.” The leader bent down and looked Maerek in the eye. “And you should be grateful I didn’t kill you with the rest of your family. You killed one of my best hunters. He was irreplaceable.” The leader placed his left index and middle fingers on Maerek’s eyelids and closed them.

  When Maerek opened them again, everything was quiet and a certain amount of time had passed. The metal collar and cuffs were cold against his skin. He tried to stand, but his legs wouldn’t move. The paralyzing effect of the cockatrice hadn’t completely worn off. Maerek took a deep breath through his nose, not to change, but to calm the frustration that billowed inside of him.

  “You can leave any time you want to,” someone said. Maerek couldn’t look around or open his eyes, but he guessed that the voice was just outside of the cage. “You only need to tell me one thing. I want you to think on this hard dragon.” He didn’t recognize the voice. It wasn’t the leader of the hunters. He sounded much younger and more arrogant and spoke like a philosopher with a high, tenor voice. “All that I want from you, in exchange for your freedom, is the name and location of a Keep. It’s up to you. I will be back tomorrow for your answer.”

  Maerek let out the air in forceful hiss. The man walked away, dragging a metallic stick that clinked across the barbed bars. Maerek attempted to speak. Air bubbled over the spit that built up in the back of his throat and came out as a gurgle toward the man. He blinked and slowly his vision cleared.

  “You wish to speak so soon?” the man asked coldly. Maerek could see him clearly now. He wasn’t dressed like the hunters. He wore a faded black robe with purple and green cuffs and collar. The bottom of the robe was slightly tattered. Strings drifted down from the hem of the robe like the many tentacles of a jelly fish. The man was shorter than most. He had black hair, parted fiercely to one side, and a tight-lipped smile. He glared at Maerek, his green eyes glinting in the amber light. Maerek thought that the true tenor voice, chilling and direct, fit him well.

  “My…family,” Maerek coughed and spat and then spoke. “What did you do to my family?”

  “Save for those that escaped before the fight began… we butchered them,” the man said matter-of-factly. Maerek snarled, stood and ran toward the man. Two feet before the barbed spikes, the chain went taught. Maerek leaned forward and struggled against the metal restraint, the red glow growing again in his eyes. The man stood stoically, holding the metal bar behind his back with both hands. Maerek reached out with his cuffed hands. The veins in his neck began to bulge and his face turned red as he pulled and pulled.

  The man walked nonchalantly and stood a hair’s breadth in front of Maerek’s reaching fingers. Maerek continued to struggle and frustration grew inside him. They were only metal chains. In no way should they have been able to restrain him. He was a dragon. He was stronger than steel, harder than stone, he was of Vaalkún, of Moving Mountain. He turned away from the man and grabbed the chain that held him to the wall. A large lock connected the last link in the chain to the loop on the wall. Maerek grabbed hold of the chain, leaned back with all of his weight and pulled with the unseen strength of a dragon. The lock didn’t budge. Exhausted he turned back toward the man, little beads of sweat dripping in Maerek’s eyes.

  “I’ll kill you,” Maerek said. “You and all your hunt
ers too.” The man smiled and swung at the dragon’s face. Maerek raised his cuffed hands just in time. Metal hit metal. Maerek’s cuffs shook hard and sent a painful tingling sensation down his arms. The man took the end of the metal rod and jammed it into Maerek’s gut. Maerek doubled over. It felt like his entire insides had been crushed and then burned in an instant. The man lifted Maerek’s head with the end of his metal rod.

  “I will come back tomorrow. I look forward to continuing our conversation.” The man shimmied through the metal bars and spikes. “Remember my offer,” he said singingly, waving his right hand high and flippantly behind him as he walked away. As Maerek breathed in, he wheezed, fell to his knees and cried.

  “And if I refuse?” he roared.

  “You won’t,” the man said.

  After Maerek was sure that the man was gone, Maerek sobbed. He cried until his eyes hurt, until it hurt to breath, until every muscle ached from grief. Emotionally drained, all he wanted to do was die, to forget all of his well-kept memories. His chronology of Moving Mountain was now an anthology of grief, pain. Yet in that perfect memory, he could see, hear, smell, taste, hear his family.

  Precious sleep didn’t come. He was too tired to sleep. The thought of singing came to him, but as he breathed in to begin a baritone tune, he let the breath go in a natural sigh. There was too much pain, too much grief and his throat was raw. Eventually he sat crossed-legged on the cold floor and stared blankly at the barbed spikes. Memories of Vaalkún’s singing, or his Keep’s singing, singing of celebration of Tsugo’s mating ceremony, of sharing memories, of flying together, of the hunting, of the family he was so close to, and now was gone forever.

  He thought of the last song they sang as a Keep and remembered his grandparents and parents flying northward with the hatchlings. Part of his family was still alive, part of the song still lived on. Remembering them, and the sacrifices made by his cousins and Vaalkún, he promised to find them. He promised himself that he would escape and return to them and make sure that this never happened again.

  CHAPTER 4

  Maerek stared blankly out past the barbed cell doors. Three days passed since he was imprisoned, three long days since the man with the metal rod beat him. Maerek reminisced on those pure memories of his family, his mother, his sister, his cousins, every possible memory he could conjure up from the songs of his memory, from the beginning of Moving Mountain. It took him two whole days to piece his memories together into a song that would serve as the final memory of his keep. Hopefully, as the song spread among keeps, it would find its way back to the rest of his family, wherever they were.

  He was silent and played the song over and over and over again in his mind, seeing how the images appeared to him, adjusting the mental tones and notes to add clarity and vividness.

  “How are you holding up?” he heard the other dragon say. Now it made sense why he cautioned him not to shift and why he heard chains. Maerek wasn’t in a mood to talk and started singing his song in his mind. “Where are you from?” the other dragon asked. Maerek growled.

  “Most of my family was slaughtered,” Maerek started. “I’m not really in the mood for idle chit chat.” There was silence and Maerek gave a short sigh in contentment.

  “Be grateful then, that some escaped,” the other dragon said. “I have only one daughter that escaped.” Maerek didn’t respond straightway. A string of guilt formed in him, and he was searching for the words to comfort the other dragon, as well as ease his own conscience.

  “Forgive me,” he said. “What is your song?”

  “My song,” the other dragon sighed, and then cleared his throat. “My song is long, filled with happiness and ending in depression. Would you care to hear it?”

  “Yes,” Maerek whispered.

  As the other dragon sang, memories, images, colors and smells came to him. The other dragon’s name was Boshk. He lived on the other side of the Broken Blades, north of the desert country of Tessír. He was born as part of the fourth generation in his keep, but his great-grandsire and great-grandmother passed shortly after his birth. His mother smelled like desert sand and salt, and his sire like coniferous trees and ash.

  His keep was small, consisting of two aunts and uncles and three other cousins. He was the youngest of the cousins and attended all of their mating ceremonies. Portions of other songs were sung from keeps in Caite and some keeps from the Northern Wilderness that were already familiar to Maerek. When Boshk came of age, he flew southward to the edge of the Northern Wilderness and caught a ride with a caravan. He traveled with the desert caravan all the way to Port Rasmú. He stayed there for two months searching for a scent of a potential mate. Finding none, he took another caravan that was headed to Ruiska, through the treacherous pass of the Broken Blades. It wasn’t until he reached the foothills that he caught the smell of a female. He left the caravan that night and took off in pursuit, following her smell of lilac and oak.

  She was hiding in the trees and when Boshk found her. She took off, speeding away from him, and then diving into the forest to hide again. Her speed was incredible. Even though Boshk was only gliding, the female would burst past him, propel herself, and land before he was able to speed up to catch her. Boshk didn’t give up so easily.

  As soon as he found her, he flapped his wings in front of her direction. The turbulence disrupted her, but she corrected. It took Boshk a couple more attempts until he was able to jar her flight enough to catch up to her, grab her arm, hold her and hover as she tried to escape. Boshk held her tight, but she squirmed out of his grip. He grabbed her other arm, she got free, he grabbed her leg, and she got free, he grabbed her tail and her arm again.

  “Enough!” the female roared. “We’ll settle this on the ground.” Boshk didn’t let go at first but growled low and stared at her. Boshk didn’t doubt her. He knew that dragons could not lie or mislead. The behavior was not only beneath their pride, but also the logic behind lying didn’t make sense to their kin. Why betray a trust, a relationship, more importantly, family, with lies? It was only human to lie.

  “Agreed,” Boshk said after some thought. His wings were tiring and it was becoming difficult to hold the female in place. He cautiously let go and the female glided gracefully along the treetops. Boshk followed her descent. After a short flight, the two landed in a clearing. In that clearing, the two introduced themselves properly, explained their history, and began their relationship.

  Boshk’s song continued about how their relationship grew quickly and how it wasn’t long after that night that the pair was mated. A joyful part of the song was about their ceremony, but the most joyful part was about the hatching of his daughter, Mearto. The next part was about Mearto’s childhood, her close association to her sire and mother and of her smell, lilac and sea salt.

  As the song explained every portion of her life, Maerek felt light inside. It was as if the grief and guilt he felt over his Keep’s tragedy lifted. Her face, narrow and feminine, glistening in starlight, her stormy grey eyes and blue ocean scales, her voice, calm like a sea breeze, everything about her made Maerek relax in infatuation.

  The last part of the song was the attack of their Keep. All were killed save for Boshk and Mearto. Boshk’s mate was in the process of being rendered for her meat and blood. He had Mearto follow him as quickly as she could into the woods, away from the massacre. A group of hunters followed them. Boshk turned and attacked their pursuers. Mearto turned around a tree and watched.

  Boshk launched a fireball. It landed and killed most of the hunters. He raced toward the group to finish them off. The hunters didn’t stand a chance. With the remaining hunters killed, Boshk paused to look over the dead bodies, listening for any remaining sign of life. Confident of his kills, he gestured over to Mearto.

  “Change into your human form and head south to Port Rasmú,” he said. She understood that he would not follow and both she and Boshk shared tears briefly. She changed in a plume of smoke and dressed into her human clothes. Boshk lowered his
head and Mearto kissed her father goodbye. At this point, Maerek was able to piece together the rest of the song based on his own experience, and the song changed. The usual smooth, deep longed toned song changed into brief short, staccato type of tune, and words came into Maerek’s mind instead of memories.

  “She is all that I have left,” Boshk sang. He cleared his throat. The man with the tenor voice started to hum just as Boshk was about to speak. He dragged his metal rod across the metal bars of the cages. Maerek scowled at him as he walked in front of his cell. The man slowed and looked back. He smiled and struck the metal bar against Maerek’s cage. One of the bars bent inward, pointing one barbed spike upwards, and another down. Maerek winced at the sound but stayed focused on the man.

  His black robe fluttered as he dropped his hands to his side. He stood for a moment, staring at Maerek from the other side of the bent bars. The pale skin, purple rings under his eyes, disheveled hair, the smell of dried sweat from the night before, a stagnant body odor, and breath that smelled like stomach acid told Maerek all he needed to know. This man was not in charge. The man straightened himself and smiled innocently. He placed a hand on the dented bar and leaned in.

  “You want to know why you won’t refuse me?” the man asked.

  Maerek was silent, staring down at the stone floor. He couldn’t show the man that he was weakening, that the man was getting to him. He had to stay firm.

  “You see, dragon, you can’t lie. It goes against your nature. And I have dealt with more than one of your kind before.” The man paused and tapped his metal rod against the cell bar. “I know I can’t beat the information out of you. You are too strong, mentally and physically, to break from physical pain.” He nodded over to Boshk’s cage. “But he doesn’t know anything about you,” the man said softly and started to walk away, dragging his metal rod against the bars, “and I can beat him all day.”

  The man didn’t say anything else after he entered Boshk’s cage. Blow after blow, he didn’t say anything. After Boshk fell to the ground, the man continued to strike him. Maerek heard Boshk roll away. The man kicked at the cuffs and picked up the chain. The next set of strikes was quick, shallow and sharp.