Davix was shaken by the threat, and it was hard to keep his voice steady. “Are you banishing me, Prime Magistrate?”
“I am saying you are drifting like fog and are perhaps in need of some solid ground beneath your feet.”
“I wouldn’t be the first you banished,” he shot back, surprised by the anger rising in him.
Grav’nan-dahé stepped back in surprised. “Acolyte! Do I even know you? Where once stood a pious lad, now a rude brute faces me, eyes clouded by pride. This may be the way you speak with Tix-etnep-thon-dahé, but it is not how you will speak to me.”
Davix felt a power and autonomy he had never known. “My Master of Atmospherics tells me you were great friends, many cycles past.” He was toying with the Prime Magistrate, like a sly kingsolver buffeting a frog he would eventually kill. He could hardly breathe.
“And I hope we remain friends. Is there something you wish to ask me, Apprentice?”
Davix almost said it: Are you plotting to kill the holy Dragon Lords? But how could he? Right here in the courtyard of the Citadel, hours before the holy rites of Sarensikar were set to begin?
Instead, he said, “Teacher, I am worried about the Dragon Groom. I hope he is safe.”
“He is not to be called by that name. Do not become caught up in the fog of superstition that chokes the city. He is the Copper Guest, and soon he will leave for the Realm of Earth. He never should have come here.”
“But he is not just the Copper Guest. Great Sur herself called him Dragon Groom. Do you not dishonour the wisdom of the Dragon Lords by refusing this name?”
Davix had never contradicted Grav’nan-dahé so brazenly, and he watched with equal parts terror and wonder as outrage flashed in the man’s eyes.
“Child!” the Prime Magistrate barked, the echo of the word slapping back a moment later from the far wall of the courtyard. “When you have lived more than a dozen cycles, then you may begin to question me. Question instead the dangerous influences that have played on your mind. This boy from the Realm of Earth—you should avoid his company and the gaudy reverence that follows in his wake. You are too impressionable, D’gada-vixtet-thon, and the paradoxes of faith require, above all, moral strength.”
Davix’s jaw tightened. “Are you saying I am weak, Prime Magistrate?”
“I am saying I am your elder, and you must trust I will guide you on the path of righteousness.”
“I am not a child, Prime Magistrate.”
“Are you not? I know you visited the Copper Guest on his first night in the realm, knowingly trespassing in a house not your own.”
Davix, caught off guard, felt a flash of fear. This wasn’t a game. He was suddenly conscious of the forces he opposed and all he might lose.
“The voice of the flesh is strong,” Grav’nan-dahé said. “But it must not be allowed to cloud your judgement. The boy from Earth is a threat to your clarity.” He almost sounded sympathetic.
“Teacher…” Davix began. He wanted, needed to explain the feelings growing in him for X’risp’hin, how his thoughts these past days had been full of the Earth boy’s voice, his smile, the way his skin of pale gold shone in the moonlight. But his voice was choked by tears, and he could not speak.
“From this moment forward,” the Prime Magistrate commanded, “I’m afraid I must forbid you his company.”
Grav’nan-dahé’s words went through him like a knife. Could Davix doubt anyone who would say such a thing might also plan to murder a dragon? He started to shake.
“Davix, my boy, let us not succumb to anger.” He put a hand on Davix’s neck and drew their foreheads close. The intimacy of the gesture confused Davix, made the tears fall. The old man’s voice was quiet and sure. “Come, recite with me the Litany of Generations. It will unburden your soul.”
Davix almost laughed. This uncanny echo of inner and outer voices was more than he could take. He pulled himself from the embrace.
“Keep your tired litanies and your pious corpses, old man. I believe in the Dragon Groom, and I will be with him.”
Grav’nan-dahé reared back and swung his hand wide, slapping Davix hard on the face. Davix staggered in shock. The sound of the blow echoed through the courtyard before he even registered the sting. He brought a hand to his cheek. The mixed beings had stopped their work to watch. He breathed hard, his face now full of fire. There were so many words he wanted to say—words of apology, words of defiance, of blasphemy—that they tangled on his tongue and left him mute.
So without a word, Davix turned and walked to the citadel wall where he stared through a narrow window. Archers had once stood in this spot, drawing back their mighty bows to repel attacks from the Realms of Air and Water. And through this window he saw, silhouetted against the clouds in the last of the day’s light, the great dragon, Sur. Her mighty wings cut through the air, pushing her toward Cliffside. On her back was the saddle, and in it, he knew, was X’risp’hin.
Davix did not even look back at Grav’nan-dahé. He ran. He ran as though fuelled by the Realm’s mighty fires, ran down flights of steps and through winding streets, pushing past surprised citizens, determined to be there when the dragon landed.
Chapter 26: Slow Motion Interrupted
The lights were coming on in Cliffside as we flew in across the foggy fields. Sur’s spiral path ended with a bumpy landing in a dark corner of the Retreat of Tarn.
“You’re not going up on the stage this time?” I asked, and her only response was a low growl. She’d hardly said a word since retrieving Twis’wit’s body. I wondered if she was depressed or angry or some other flavour of emotion particular to dragons. Still growling, Sur walked us into a shadowed alcove between buildings.
I didn’t understand why she was hiding, and I didn’t feel like asking. All I wanted was to get back to my room and collapse for a week or three. I figured if I made my presence known, someone would come and escort me, but I didn’t want to wait. I hoisted myself out the basket and climbed down the dragon’s haunches. As soon as my feet hit the cobblestones, I got dizzy. Nonetheless, I was determined to find my own way.
“Hey, Sur,” I called over my shoulder as I began my journey, my vision already growing cloudy at the edges. “Thanks for the lift. I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve got to get some sleep.”
I stumbled out of the alcove and made it maybe ten more steps before my legs just gave out, and I found myself sitting on the cold stones. My body’s inability to follow simple orders was annoying, like I was walking a labradoodle that refused to heel.
From the shadows of the alcove, Sur broke her silence. “DO NOT HURRY, DRAGON GROOM/YOUR BODY REALIGNS/LISTEN TO ITS SIGNS/CARE AND COMFORT WILL BE HERE SOON.”
Now, I doubt she meant her words to cue the action so exactly, but at that very moment, I turned and saw Davix running across the square toward me in the last scraps of daylight. Not jogging, mind you, not a careless lazy lope. No, he wanted to get to me as fast as humanly possible. My heart swelled like one of those compressed sponge dinosaurs when you drop them in water. I’ll tell you a secret…I might have had a little crush on him.
Okay, shut up.
I suddenly understood that cliché slow-motion reunion run, where the guy and the girl—it’s always a guy and girl, right?—race toward each other, taking five minutes of screen time to cross the train platform. It was the kind of bullshit that made me laugh when I watched old movies with Mom, but that was because I didn’t understand back then. Now I got it. Everything was slow because I had so much going on in my brain.
In that scant ten seconds, I had time to watch his legs pumping, his cloud of hair rising and falling with his stride, covering and then revealing his big brown eyes, his big brown nose, and those amazing lips. I marvelled that I was the goal of all his passionate action, that he demonstrably wanted me. Sure, an ugly voice in my head was saying things like, He’s going to run right past you and into a porta-potty. That voice, thankfully, was drowned out by the rising surge of my body, which was being
flooded with hormones and emotional lubricants, making me feel beautiful and worthy.
The movie moment was, of course, spoiled by the fact that I wasn’t running to him in return. And as much as I would have loved to shoot up like a rocket into his arms, I didn’t have the energy. Instead, Davix dropped down into a squat in front of me and, momentum lost, we both got shy.
He was panting, hugging his knees and staring anxiously into my face. “You’re back!”
I gave a tired laugh. “I know. I missed you.” Ack! Why had I started with that? But maybe truth was the right way to play this unfamiliar game.
“X’risp’hin, you’re shivering!”
“Yeah, I’ve been sort of sick. Dragon Groom troubles.” A thick blanket of fog was starting to flow into the square, which made me shiver even more.
“I must get you to Physician-da Raglar.” His forehead was wrinkled up in worry. It was pretty cute.
“How about just taking me back to my room?” I said and blushed. Was there anything I could say that didn’t drip with sticky innuendo? “I mean, I just need some sleep.”
He pulled me to my feet. When I was standing, our hands stayed clasped, and the closing of that particular circuit lit up every string of Christmas lights in my body.
Sur took that moment to lumber out of the shadows with an oversized, bone-rumbling sigh. Davix, who hadn’t realized she was even there, dropped instantly to his knees and bowed until his head was on the stones.
“O, Mighty Sur,” he moaned. “I didn’t realize you were there. Forgive me.”
Sur ignored him. She looked twitchy and agitated, and raised her snout in the air, sniffing loudly.
“Is everything okay?” I asked her.
“THE BALANCE TEETERS/THE REALM GROANS AND CRACKS!” She rocked from foot to foot.
Davix raised his head cautiously. “Is the great Dragon Lord angry?” he whispered, as if it was his fault.
“She’s definitely in a mood.” He got up and put his arm around me protectively.
People were now running into the square from every direction. Sur might have flown into Cliffside without any warning, but all it took was a couple of sightings for word to spread like lice in a daycare.
“Great Sur!” called one approaching person.
“We are your humble servants!” said another.
“Mighty Sur brings us blessings at Sarensikar!” shouted a third.
And inevitably I was roped into the proceedings. “Dragon Groom, bless my consummation,” which was just…ick.
“Let’s get out of here,” I begged Davix. “Before another mob tears my clothes off.”
Already dozens of people had arrived, but the gathering horde left a wide, cautious circle around the dragon, and we were safe inside the circle. Well, safe other than the fact that Sur was definitely not her usual chill self. Even I was nervous to be within smiting distance. Abruptly she rose up and, with a sulphurous snort, turned in a half-circle, revealing the corpse tied to her other flank. The smiles, woo-hoos, and hosannas turned to gasps and groans.
I felt Davix’s body stiffen. “Another death…”
“Another?”
“While you were gone…The Curator of Sites Historic. Please tell me what happened.”
“We were up in the mountains, visiting some friends of Sur’s.” I didn’t have the energy to start explaining about the prophecy. “They let us know about the dead guy—Twis’wit. Do you know him?”
“Not well. He brought some weather instruments up to the mountains for us. Sometimes we sent birds to each other.” He did a head and heart bow and said, “Twis’wit—Tarsen-renrit-kee—may your spirit know peace.”
Stakrat and another officer from Defence of Realm pushed through the silent crowd and entered our VIP circle. Davix went to greet them at the same time as my legs gave out again, and I sank back down. I could hear Davix repeating my story, gesturing in my direction. I gave Stakrat a little wave, and she nodded back with a serious police face.
The older officer approached Sur, looking like he might mess his drawers. “Great Dragon Lord, what can you tell me about the deceased? Where was he found and what were the circumstances?”
I didn’t need my dragon blood to read Sur’s contempt. “HE DARES TO TREAT ME LIKE AN EQUAL/TO A BIDAHÉNA ALONE I SPEAK WILL.” The man threw himself into a super bow, face down on the cobblestones.
“My most abject apologies, Great Sur!” He craned his neck around and shouted to Stakrat. “Get Korda and ask her to call one of the bidahénas and the Interpreter. I’ll secure the scene.” She ran off, and he got cautiously to his feet. “May I…if Your Eminence allows…untie the body?”
She glared at him, her eyes a hot volcanic red. “YOU MAY DO YOUR DUTY/NO MORE CAN ANY OF US DO/SUCH ARE THE LIMITS OF FATE/OF DESTINY.”
He looked confused, and I called out, “That means yes.”
“Thank you, Copper Guest,” he answered, bowing low to me, which was, frankly, just embarrassing.
The officer and Davix freed the corpse, constantly bowing and apologizing to Sur. She wasn’t even paying attention. The only help I could offer was asking Sur to stand up so they could get the leather strap out from under her belly.
The square was now packed with spectators, and enough were carrying torchstones that the whole scene was lit in a warm, fog-diffused glow. Compared to the last time they had gathered to greet the dragon, they were unnaturally quiet. The officer and Davix were just laying the corpse gently on the steps of the nearest building when I heard a commanding voice call out.
“Let me pass!”
The crowd parted to allow Korda through on her horse, the Interpreter seated behind her. A moment later a bidahéna flew in. Kror, Throd? I had trouble telling bidahénas apart. Korda was already getting her debrief from the officer as she dismounted. The Interpreter clambered off the horse more awkwardly, buttoning up his official orange jammies as he hit the ground. His hair was a mess, and he had smears on his face from whatever he’d been eating when the call came.
Soon, the bidahéna was speaking to Sur, and the Interpreter was relaying the information to Korda. Meanwhile, Korda’s deputy was bent over the corpse, doing his CSI thing.
“Multiple deep lacerations,” he called out to Davix, who had been pressed into service to take notes. “As from a clawed animal. More likely feline than ursine.”
“Like Rinby,” he said, his face grim enough to make a team mascot weep.
A growing hum of agitation rose from the crowd. Still dizzy, I got to my feet and lurched to the edge of the circle. I’m not sure what I was intending to say, but I figured the least I could do was offer some words of comfort.
“Dragon Groom! We welcome your return!” said a woman in the front row, and everyone around her agreed loudly. She hadn’t called me Copper Guest, I noticed.
Someone else asked, “Has a dark demon thrown the realm out of balance?”
The first woman was horrified by this suggestion. “Is that why the fog remains, Dragon Groom? Are we being punished for our sins?”
I tried to reassure them. “No, it was just some animal up in the mountains. It’s dangerous there.” But then I thought of the prophecy of the old mountain couple. Something about death in the fog, attacking with tooth and claw. Betrayal of the beloved. No wonder Sur was upset. Everything started spinning around me, and I stumbled closer to the crowd and their wide, frightened eyes. Hands reached for me, and I thought maybe I’d just let go and fall into their octopus embrace. I was grabbed firmly from behind and turned around.
“Don’t go that way, X’risp’hin,” Davix said, walking me back toward the dubious protection of Sur’s presence. “Tarn’s blood, you’re white as a sheet. Is there anything I can do to help?”
With my teeth chattering, I told him, “Th-there’s a blanket in the basket.”
When I saw him bowing deeply to Sur, I realized I had basically asked him to climb up on God’s back. But he did it for me, hero that he was, scrambling up her leg an
d into the basket. Sur turned her head to watch him suspiciously, and I felt like asking her, “What do you think? Isn’t he cute?”
Davix was out of the basket holding the blanket, balancing on her back, looking right up at Sur’s glowing eyes when his face twisted up.
“What’s wrong with X’risp’hin?” my foolish hero shouted in the great dragon’s face. “You were supposed to take care of him. He’s important!”
I heard Korda gasp. Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch the scene play out. Sur pulled her head back for a better look at him, her eyes tinged flame red.
“CAUTION YOUR TONGUE/FRAGILE AND YOUNG…”
“Davix, it’s okay,” I said, but I couldn’t make my voice loud enough.
“The Dragons are supposed to take care of us,” he continued, his voice full of anger and tears. “But we endure death after death. Everything in the Realm is out of balance.”
Even though she’d basically said the same thing five minutes earlier, Sur clearly did not like to be talked to that way.
“WHO IS IT THAT SPEAKS/THAT SQUEAKS THUS?/WHO INVITES A ROASTING/FOR HIS MINDLESS BOASTING?” She was rhyming in more modern dragon tongue so he could understand his imminent peril.
Clouds of steam, rich with sulphur stink, poured from her mouth and nostrils as she talked, and Davix, who must have been waking up to what he’d just done, started coughing. The dragon straightened her front legs, and he tipped off her back and slid inelegantly down her sleek side, landing heavily on the cobblestones.
I crawled to him and wrapped my arms protectively around his chest.
“Why did you talk to her like that?” I whispered anxiously in his ear. He was shaking. Impressively, he had managed to hold on to the blanket.
“I didn’t mean to. The words just came out.”
Sur reared up to tower over us. “STAND ASIDE, DRAGON SIRE/VENGEANCE COMES WITH DRAGON FIRE!”
I grabbed Davix tighter. “Come on, Sur, don’t make a big deal out of this!”
The Dubious Gift of Dragon Blood Page 18
