Suddenly, everything went quiet. It was as if someone had just smashed a wineglass at a party, and everyone was looking around wondering who broke it. Salanraja let out a whimper, and she backed away. She buried her head in her front claws for a moment, almost as if she was crying. It took her awhile to emerge from that position.
“Salanraja,” Driar Brigel said after a long moment, his muscles flexing underneath his robe. “I must say that we’re disappointed. For a long time, we’ve tried to find you a suitable rider, and you only needed to trim your spikes to hold a saddle. But instead you go and choose this mangy creature as a rider. What were you thinking?”
Salanraja let out a low and quiet growl, but this soon turned into a soft whimper.
“Aren’t you going to say something to them?” I asked.
“I can’t,” Salanraja replied. “I’m not bonded to them.”
“Then speak to their dragons.”
“I’d rather not,” Salanraja replied. “They’ll just remind me what a misfit they’ve always thought I am. This is an argument that I’ve never managed to win. Just tell the Driars that I think you are the most suitable candidate, and that you have as much strength of character as any human rider. And tell them that you’re descended from a Sabre-Tooth tiger or something. Not one of those puny leopard cat things.”
I did as she told me, leaving out the descendant from a Sabre-Tooth tiger part, as I’d already told them what I was descended from, and I saw absolutely no reason to mock my heritage.
“You never did quite get on with the other dragons,” Brigel replied, directing his voice at Salanraja. “It won’t hurt to cut off the spikes, you know. Once they’ve been gone a few days, you won’t realise you ever had them.”
“No!” Salanraja replied, and it took me a moment to realize that the shout only echoed in my head. Salanraja also let out another long roar. The elders reacted by lifting up their staffs towards the crystal again.
Salanraja corrected herself.
“Look, stop getting all angry all the time,” I said. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be on someone’s plate for dinner.”
“I’m sorry,” Salanraja said. “But this is quite personal. This isn’t just about my spikes. I can’t have a human rider. I’ve never wanted one. I’ve never trusted any humans around here to want one as my rider. Apart from Aleam, but he’s already bonded.”
“So, what do I tell them?” I asked.
“Tell them that you are ready to prove your worth. Tell them that we will serve honourably the Kingdom of Illumine, and the king, pompous as he is.”
“Fine,” I said. I turned back to the council and told them exactly what Salanraja had told me, not omitting a single detail. Yila scowled at the bit about the king being pompous and banged her staff loudly against the floor.
“I didn’t ask you to say that part. Gracious demons, the Dragon Council will roast me alive if you’re not careful.”
“I said exactly what you asked me to.”
“You, Bengie, it seems, have a lot to learn.”
The elders at this point were conferring amongst themselves. While the two ladies continued to speak, Brigel turned back towards us. “Salanraja,” he said. “Are you sure you want this? Despite your rebellious streak, we want to protect you. Having an incompetent dragon rider might cost you your life.”
“But what’s the alternative,” I asked, and I didn’t wait for Salanraja’s permission to speak this time. “She’s already bonded to me, isn’t she?”
“They don’t want us to unbond anymore,” Salanraja explained. “Now they want me to serve as a transport dragon for royal passengers and you as a regular rat-catcher. But I knew when I bonded with you that there was no turning back.”
“So, what do I tell them?”
“Tell them I’ve made up my mind.”
I did just that, and Driar Lonamm sighed as she pivoted around back towards us. She examined Salanraja for a moment, then turned to me. “Well, I guess we’ll have to learn to accept it at Dragonsbond Academy. Although for now we wish to keep this a secret from the palace. You’ll need to prove your worth to us before news of your existence is published in the royal papers. Or, if you get yourselves killed, we could easily just cover this one up.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked. “We’re not going to die.”
“Aren’t you?” Driar Yila said. “You will eventually. No magic can stop fate.”
“I will die when I’m old and have lived a good life,” I said.
“So be it,” Yila replied. She turned to Brigel, who nodded.
“Remind us of your name, again?” he said.
I stepped forward. “My name is Ben, because I’m Bengal, a descendant of the great Asian leopard cat.”
Salanraja growled quietly. “Not that again.”
I hissed at her. Driar Brigel all this time, was watching our exchange with intent, as he leaned toward us. “Well, Ben,” he said. “Do you promise to swear fealty to Dragonsbond Academy and the King of Illumine? Do you promise to serve as a loyal subject, and to put the fate of your kingdom before your own life? The truth now if you please.”
Well, if he wanted the truth, I might as well give it. “I came from a pleasant house in South Wales where I could eat salmon every day. Here, I’ve eaten nothing in days except bugs, a tiny scrap of venison, and a bit of chicken. You want to know what I want? I want to go home.”
I mewled as I spoke that last sentence, giving my best cat like cuteness that had won humans over so many times. I hoped that they’d know of some magic that could send me back through a portal across time and space. Tomorrow, I could be in South Wales, sleeping on the plush sofa in the conservatory, the sun coming through the windows. Later, I would chase birds and butterflies around the garden. I would feast every day like a cat should, and I would get food when I wanted it.
I was interrupted from my reveries by Driar Yila’s staff banging against the floor. “You have no choice, you selfish creature,” she said. “Either you do what we ask, or you’ll spend the rest of your life chasing rats.”
I hadn’t expected that response. I mewled again, to try to get at least some of their sympathy for my plight, but they weren’t having any of it. Eventually, I realised that this harsh mistress, Driar Yila, wouldn’t bend one bit.
“Very well, I promise to serve your kingdom.” But I also told myself I’d find a way to go home. There had to be some way back.
That grin returned to Brigel’s face. Really, even though he was the bulkiest of the three, he also seemed the kindest. “Then, I think it’s time to give you your first mission,” he said. “Prove yourself at this, and we will accept the pairing into Dragonsbond Academy.”
“What in the Seventh Dimension are they going to send us after now?” Salanraja said, and I mewled quietly, not liking the sound of danger. But I noticed the three elders were now looking at me, as if expecting me to say something.
“Go on,” Salanraja said. “Ask them what the mission is. Show some interest in helping out and things will be a little easier here.”
I looked at Salanraja, and she cocked her head towards the council. So, I turned back to them.
“What do you wish for us to do?” I asked, reluctantly.
Lonamm reached down into a hidden pocket at the front of her robe and pulled out a scroll. She fumbled with this a moment, struggling to open it with one hand, as she gripped her staff tightly in her other hand.
“Let me see,” Lonamm said. “Yes, here it is. There’s a bone dragon terrorising Midar Village on the edge of the Wastelands. Go there and stop it. Once you come back with proof that this has been done, then we will reconsider your application.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“That’s not enough,” Salanraja said. “You need to bow.”
“I need to what?”
“Bow…”
“How the whiskers can a cat bow?”
“I don’t know, just lower yourself on your
front legs or something.”
But I wasn’t listening to this idiocy, and so I gave another meow instead. It wasn’t so much to say thank you, but more to remind them that I still wanted to go home, and that if they could kindly open a portal back to the Brecon Beacons after this mission, I’d greatly appreciate it.
“Very well,” Yila said, the harsh look not leaving her face. “Then be off with you, and remember, only return once the mission’s complete.”
“Fine,” I said.
She glared at me as if expecting something.
“You don’t just say ‘fine’ here,” Salanraja explained. “You say, yes ma’am.”
But I wasn’t listening. I kept staring back at Driar Yila and then I yawned, licked my paw, and started grooming myself.
Driar Lonamm shook her head. “Go on, be off with you.” She made a gesture as if shooing away a cat. But then, come to think of it, to them I was just that – a cat.
I slinked away, back towards the bailey. But before I could take a few steps, Salanraja gnashed her teeth loudly behind me, and made a sound like an angry dog.
“Get on my back, you impudent fool,” she said. “Gracious demons, how did I end up choosing you?”
I let out a deep growl, then I turned back to her. I really didn’t feel like going anywhere after how these humans had treated me. But I guess we had a bone dragon to destroy. So, I ran up Salanraja’s tail and secured myself in the corridor of spikes on her back.
As Salanraja lifted herself off the ground, I cursed at the three elders in cat language, safe in the knowledge that they (probably) wouldn’t understand what I said.
15
Mastery of Flight
I was getting the hang of flying. This was my third time in the air with Salanraja, and I was starting to enjoy the sensation of it. The sun beat down from the sky, bringing a pleasant warmth that offset the cool breeze. The clouds rolled by overhead, so far away they looked like massive balls of candy floss floating up in the sky. The yellow and green fields had been arranged so neatly beneath us that they reminded me of the board from that silly game that humans liked to play.
You must know which one I mean. The one where humans took it in turns – that sometimes could last for hours – to shuffle pieces around from one black or white chequered square to the next. The master and mistress of the bungalow back in winter used to love playing this in the winter besides the roaring log fireplace, the heat from it warming my soft fur. They would have salami and olives on the table, one which made me intensely hungry, and the other which made me just think, yeuch!
But honestly, this game was so boring that I would go over and sit on the master’s lap and pretend to watch them for a while. Then, while he wasn’t watching, I’d knock off the tallest of the pieces closest to me – the one that had the cross on it. The master would get so angry then, but the mistress would start laughing so loudly she’d spill her wine. Because she found it funny, I found it funny, so I continued to keep playing that way. Over time, the master would try to stop me getting anywhere near the pieces, blocking them off with his forearm, and so that became part of the game.
Of course, I always won.
As I watched the fields passing by beneath me, like a forever-moving floor, I purred from deep within my chest. I’d momentarily forgotten about those idiot humans back at Dragonsbond Academy. That was the beauty of being a cat. You didn’t need to have any worries. You could just put everything behind you and focus on being in the moment.
But, at the same time, I could hear Salanraja growling and groaning from her chest somewhere beneath my feet. Occasionally she’d open her mouth, and out would emerge a ring of smoke that would drift off behind us, dissipating into the sky.
She was trying to get my attention, but I was having none of it. This was the first flight I was enjoying, even when my memories of home left a sinking feeling of wistfulness inside me.
Eventually, Salanraja must have realised she wasn’t doing a great job of communicating her anger. So, she lurched to her side, and had me tumbling within her cage of spikes. My ribs made a nasty cracking sound as I bashed against the wall. Whiskers, that hurt.
“Ouch,” I said. “Fly in a straight line, will you?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, with a tinge of irony in her voice. “But sometimes I need to turn.”
“Then turn gently. It’s not as if we’re navigating through a canyon.”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” Salanraja said, and she did a few rolls in the air, sending me around and around again, like the proverbial cat in the washing machine.
I couldn’t really focus on staying alive in there and talk to her at the same time. I thought I was going to throw up, and this time I’d do so on her back. But she stopped eventually, and the ground beneath my feet no longer looked like a chessboard, but rather was spinning around like a kaleidoscope.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked her.
“What is wrong with me?” She growled. “It appears to be you who wants to get us killed. How could you behave so impudently in front of the Council of Three? Have you any idea how powerful they and their dragons are?”
“I thought it was the warlocks who were the bad guys,” I said. “Isn’t the Council meant to be on your side?”
“They are,” Salanraja said, and paused. She beat her wings rapidly a few times to lift us up higher in the air and then lowered us into a glide. A large crow with a great grey beak soared alongside at the same level as us for a moment. But then, it noticed either Salanraja or me, and probably her. It cawed out and then dived back down towards the ground.
“They are,” Salanraja said again, “and you’re right, they probably would never kill us. It’s just…”
“What?” I said gently, thinking better to keep her calm than to aggravate her back into stunt mode.
Salanraja shook her head slowly, causing her body to sway slightly underfoot. “Dragons aren’t usually born with spikes like these on our backs. Usually we have horns that come out of our heads, and sometimes a line of spikes along our spine. The other dragons call me Double Ribs, and they ask me what I’m keeping inside my cage. Some dragons understand why I don’t want to change myself, but others feel I should just get rid of these spikes.”
“So why don’t you?” I asked.
“Would you ever want to get rid of your claws and your teeth? These things are a part of me now. I was born with them, and I’ve learned to fly with them. They make me strong, and I can even use them to knock other dragons out of the sky. It’s an extra defence mechanism.”
I turned my head to the side. The crow had come back up to join us now, albeit at a much more cautious distance. Its black eye watched me, as if trying to assess if I was friend or foe. I lost interest in it and turned to look at the horizon, appreciating the cool wind swishing through my fur.
“Isn’t there like a human who could ride you without a saddle?” I asked. “A small lady, perhaps, who would be happy to lie in this ‘ribcage’?”
Salanraja groaned. “You would never find any human willing to ride a dragon without a saddle, and even if you did, the elders would never allow it.”
“Why not?”
“Because they’re human, and they’re all about keeping safe. That’s what this war against the warlocks is about for King Garmin, creating a world that is safe.”
“And they don’t care about my safety?” I asked, remembering what Driar Yila had said about covering up my death.
“I guess not,” Salanraja replied. “You’re just a cat to them. Which makes you expendable.”
Salanraja flapped her wings a few times, gently this time. The crow was still there, and it was now edging a little closer to us. But Salanraja paid it no heed. The sun hid behind a cloud, and the world went darker for a moment.
That was when I noticed a thin purple line emerging from the horizon.
“There it is,” Salanraja said. “The Wastelands.”
I licked my paw. �
��What are the Wastelands, anyway?”
“No man’s land,” Salanraja replied. “A land full of magical creatures, some of them serving the King’s mages, while others are machinations of the warlocks. It’s a vast battlefield that separates the Kingdom of Illumine from the Darklands where the Warlocks reside. You must have passed through them when you came to Illumine, as Astravar’s tower is right on the edge of them.”
I remembered that yucky boggy land that I’d sprinted through before reaching Illumine. Though I hadn’t seen any magical creatures in there, I had contended with that suffocating purple gas.
My tummy rumbled. “Can we stop for a bite to eat before we get there,” I asked. “They mentioned a village. Perhaps they might have a kitchen and a chef willing to at least donate a fish or two.”
Salanraja laughed. “Do you ever think about anything else?” she asked. “It’s like everything I’ve heard from you since I met you has been food, food, food, food, food…”
“That’s because I’ve not eaten for days,” I said.
“What about that chicken Aleam gave you?”
“It was one drumstick. Do you really think one drumstick is enough to feed a busy Bengal?”
“Busy?”
“Yes, you’ve made me busy. My life before I came to this place was eat, groom, sleep, play. Now, we’re off chasing a bone dragon through some disgusting lands which I really wanted to see the back of.”
“Oh, quit moaning,” Salanraja said. “I tell you what. When this is all over, I’ll hunt you something nice, and we can feast together.”
“Like that venison you promised?”
Salanraja let out a plume of smoke. “Venison if you like. Or pheasant, or a nice roasted mutton.”
“How about salmon?” I asked.
A Cat's Guide to Bonding with Dragons Page 7
