I came to an intersection and gave in to a desire to find a hiding place. To my right were four steps leading down to a door, but it was protected by a heavy cage and a large brass lock. To my left, a narrow passage led up toward the light. I took three or four deep breaths and began to climb the steps as swiftly and bravely as I could. A huge silhouetted figure stepped into my path, raising its clawed hands in the air. Was this Grav’nan-dahé’s assassin, come to finish me off?
“Let me pass,” I shouted, hysteria evident. “I am the Dragon Groom.” Or was that the worst thing I could have said? Had I made myself more of a target? I should have yelled, “I’m Latrine Cleaner #8. No point killing me!”
But the figure replied, “Yes, I am aware of your identity, Crispin.” Tiqokh stepped out of the fog and shadow. “You appear to be lost.”
Chapter 30: Heavy Thoughts in Thick Fog
Tiqokh guided me out of the back alleys to the main streets.
“Where’s everyone going?” I asked him, because the streets were full of people all heading in the same direction.
“It is time for the First Day Blessings. All of Cliffside gathers in the Retreat of Tarn where Grav’nan-dahé will speak his sermon and then offer the traditional prayers.”
“Um, okay, how about we skip that?” We had been noticed by then, and people were waving to me, heading over for blessings.
Tiqokh sniffed the air. Maybe he smelled my lack of enthusiasm, because he said, “Come,” and led me quickly down another laneway. We climbed a ladder on the side of a building and stepped onto a meandering path of wooden slats, narrow bridges, and short staircases that crossed from roof to roof through the city.
“Where are we going?”
“To attend the blessings. I know a shortcut.”
“But…”
“Your absence would be noticed.”
“So? I don’t really care what Gravy Boat thinks of me.”
“No, Crispin, I meant noticed by the People. They have already come to depend on you as a stabilizing influence.”
“But I’m just a tourist.” I stepped off the path and sat at the edge of the building we were crossing. “Sorry, Tiqokh, they’ll just have to do without me.”
I’d gone on strike like this a couple of years back during an argument with Mom at the mall, planting my butt on a bench and passive-aggressively texting friends. She called my bluff and left me there, threatening to rent out my room if I didn’t find my own way home by sunset.
Tiqokh, in contrast, was a picture of patience. “Consider, Crispin, what your presence in the Realm of Fire means,” he said. “Remember the prophecy. The Dragon Groom has ascended from the Realm of Earth because a dragon may die. Such a calamity would shake the People’s world.”
“Then they should hate me. I’m, like, this harbinger of doom.”
“True, you are the harbinger, but also the way back to balance. Without you, there is no new dragon.”
“But only if the prophecy is real,” I said, louder than I meant to.
Swinging my feet over the edge of the roof like a toddler, I watched the crowd streaming by in the street below. I had come to this world to get away from my own problems. What responsibility did I really have to these strangers?
“A lot of people are freaking out, like the realm is in trouble. They’re whispering about balance and demons and the fog. It’s just more superstition, right?”
The quadrana was silent for a moment. “Perhaps not,” he said. “I have been investigating clues disparate and disconcerting. But if there is a conspiracy, the conspirators are guarding their secrets well. I have a question for you, Crispin. When you were in Farad’hil, and Bars’torm brought you close to Etnep’s lair, what did he say to you?”
“I don’t really remember. Something about ashes, I think?”
“Shh,” Tiqokh hissed, not that I was talking loud or anything. He placed two fingers on my cheek and tapped lightly on my temple with his long nails. “Remember the warmth of the great mountain. Remember the song of the stone, for Farad’hil is always singing. Remember Bars’torm’s scent as he stands behind you.”
The rooftop seemed to pull away, like a tide going out, and suddenly I was in Farad’hil, in the memorial garden with that other quadrana, who, I now remembered, smelled like roasted almonds. He was speaking, and I repeated his words to Tiqokh.
“Eras come to an end. Death burns down life, and new possibilities grow in the ashes.”
The world of Cliffside returned, like an elastic snapping your finger when you undo a bunch of asparagus. I looked up at Tiqokh, who was mouthing my words silently.
“New possibilities,” he said. “Good. Thank you, Dragon Groom.” He began walking the path again, and I hurried to catch up. I guess my strike was over.
“Davix gave me this flower,” I said, pointing at the purple ball, which had started to wilt.
“Yes, I saw your Divinity.”
“It’s a sign between friends or, you know, fleshmates.” It sounded dirtier when I said it. “Can I ask you something else?” I said as we crossed a rickety rope bridge single file.
“You may.”
“Do they have, like, condoms in the Realm of Fire?”
“What, Crispin, is the purpose of the prophylactic protection? You do not intend to copulate with a female of the People, do you?”
“What? No!” I sputtered as we stepped onto the next roof.
The quadrana turned and sniffed me. “Ahh. You have lain with the Atmospherics apprentice.”
I pulled away. “God! Can’t a boy have a few secrets? Well, yeah, but ‘lain’ is all we did. I think maybe we’re going to do more. So…”
“I understand what you are asking. You do not need barriers from disease here in the Realm of Fire. The properties of the air and water act as a defence against both viral and bacterial maladies. There are few illnesses that afflict the People. Hurry, or we will be late.”
So, I didn’t need protection. Good. Now I just had to figure out everything else. Until I asked about condoms, the detailed mechanics of what me and Davix might do hadn’t really crossed my mind. I was going to be an awkward nerd our first time, that much was guaranteed, but maybe not a total failure. I could kiss okay, and I knew how to give a blowjob. But I didn’t know how to, like, be romantic. I didn’t know how to take someone’s clothes off them in the sexy way you see in movies. I didn’t know when it was my turn do something to them, or when I was supposed to lie back, swooning. And would I look like a fool swooning? What if I swooned and he laughed? Then there was the whole question of butt sex. Would Davix expect it? And which way? I mean, I understood it in theory, but I was missing some basic, practical info.
We crossed a bridge over a main road, and I knew we were near the Retreat of Tarn, because I could already hear the rumble of the crowd gathering. Tiqokh stepped off the path and opened a small wooden door in a wall beside us, bending low to enter.
On the other side was a dark and dusty room full of furniture covered in drop cloths. “Where are we?”
“Etnep House. Come.” Tiqokh led me through a crazy labyrinth of rooms and hallways in the castle until we emerged on a little covered porch that overlooked the Retreat of Tarn and the big stage in front of the gates of Etnep House. It reminded me of a box seat in an old theatre. Hidden behind a pair of translucent curtains, we sat down on two chairs. I peeked through the gap between curtains.
The big cobblestone square was as packed as the day Sur had flown in to take me to Farad’hil. But instead of the football-hooligan mood of that day, today’s crowd was quiet and respectful. Every person was holding a long, upright reed in their clasped hands, so the whole square looked like a marsh. In fact, I heard some frogs croaking, but that was probably a coincidence. Kriz’mig and her guild had hung colourful tapestries over the stage, and I hoped that Grav’nan-dahé would have something equally cheery to say. The fog was proving to be a problem, and muscular guys with big fans were waving it away from the stage whe
never it got thick enough to block the show.
The opening act was onstage at that point—three priest types wearing crazy big hats that looked like stilt houses. When they raised their hands, the crowd hummed louder. When they lowered them, everyone grew obediently quiet. It reminded me of a kindergarten game.
When it was over, Tiqokh abruptly stood me up and pulled our curtains open. The hum of the crowd grew into a little cheer as they all turned my way, shaking their reeds in the air. A few people started singing, and the sound spread out like a wave, until everyone had joined in.
“The song of the Five,” Tiqokh said. “It is meant to convey the gratitude we feel to be living in the Realm of Fire, part of the great plan of the dragons. They sing in your honour.”
I’d made some great playlists in my time, but this had to be one of the most beautiful songs I ever heard. So I stood there, letting the People bask in my counterfeit glory, because Tiqokh said it was important to them. I looked all around for Davix, but I couldn’t see him. The crowd’s attention turned to the front again as Grav’nan-dahé stepped through the gates of Etnep House and crossed to the podium in the middle of the stage.
There were no microphones, obviously, but the acoustics were pretty impressive because I could hear everything he said. His sermon wasn’t the happy pep talk I’d been hoping for. After some lines about the planting season and the return of the sun, he started giving everyone shit.
“Fog has been with us for too long,” the Prime Magistrate said, lifting his arms in the air so his long, loose sleeves slipped down and revealed his bony arms. “It has blinded our path and dulled our senses. We have come to rely not on faith and truth, but on rumour and superstition. But know this, People of the Realm of Fire. The absence of light cannot be mitigated by stories of light. The hands of the shadow puppeteer make demon shapes, but these are not proof of actual demons. Nothing can replace the wisdom of the Dragon Lords and their holy DragonLaw.”
I whispered to Tiqokh, “He’s saying the same thing again, right? Don’t believe in the prophecies, don’t believe rumours about Rinby. Or Twis’wit.”
“Precisely, Crispin.”
I wanted to scream in frustration. “But the People are scared. He can’t just say, ‘Stop being scared because the DragonLaw says so.’ That’s not what they need to hear.”
After the sermon, Gravy Man and the priest guys recited some prayers and played a round of pass-the-ritual-object. My mind had wandered by then, as it does in church situations. Then the crowd was on the move, beating a hasty retreat for whatever was next on the Sarensikar agenda.
Tiqokh led me down the stairs of Etnep House. I was anxious to get out and find my friends and especially Davix. If he still wasn’t around, I was going to march right over to the Atmospherics Tower and grab him. As we crossed the foyer, Tiqokh was called over by a group of mixed beings. He left me leaning against a pillar, wishing I had my phone to kill the time. After a couple of minutes, who should enter the foyer, surrounded by his priests and various assistants, but the Prime Douchebag himself. I stepped away from the pillar to catch Tiqokh’s attention. If I had to talk to Grav’nan-dahé, I didn’t want to do it alone. But Tiqokh and the mixed beings were gone, like they’d never been there in the first place.
Chapter 31: The Choreography of Faith and Desire
Grav’nan-dahé stepped toward me, leaving his priests to wait for him.
“Copper Guest, I am pleased you attended the blessings. I hope you are quite recovered from your ordeal at Farad’hil.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, working hard at politeness in the hope of ending the conversation faster.
“Let that unfortunate incident be a reminder that you do not belong here. Peace and balance endures in the Realm of Fire, and your presence just confuses the People.”
I took a deep breath and then said in one fast exhale, “Listen, Your Prime Magistrateness, I don’t want to keep contradicting you, but I was up on the mountain. I saw the prophecy happening.”
He shot me a stern X-ray of a look. “You witnessed the ritual of the heretics?”
“Yeah, me and Sur did.”
My news might have rattled him for a second, but his arrogance was quickly back in full swing. “And you think that after four days in our realm, you are experienced enough to interpret the words of that mad, old couple? I knew them in their youth. Even then, they revelled in their heresies. That is why I had to banish them. They were infecting too many of the uneducated with their ideas. Now they live out their days clinging to the side of a mountain, imagining all manner of nonsense.”
“Sur finds them pretty interesting,” I said, my voice edging into anger.
His voice grew quiet and hard. “Copper blood or no, Earth boy, do not pretend you have the smallest idea what goes on in the mighty heart of a dragon.”
But then out of nowhere, Ol’ Gravy Train produced a warm smile, like we were buddies just doing some trash talk. “Copper Guest, you are troubling your soul over worries that are not yours. I absolve you of this responsibility.” He waved a hand over me. “I will talk to the bidahénas, and they will order Tiqokh to return you to your world as soon as Sarensikar is over. Someday, if tragic circumstance does take one of the Five, perhaps we will meet again. Or another of the blood will be chosen. In any event, you have our gratitude.”
He didn’t wait for my response. He just gave a fast head and heart bow and turned on his heel with a swish of his swishy gown, tap-tapping away across the marble floor.
“Grav’nan-dahé!” I called after him. He stopped. “Have you seen Davix? He…he’s been kind to me. I don’t want to leave without saying goodbye.”
He turned, and his eyes were shining like he had already won. “The young apprentice has not been seen today. Perhaps he is making amends in a solitary retreat in the foothills.”
Amends for what? “Okay, how can I find him, then? You have a map or something?”
“Copper Guest, I have instructed D’gada-vixtet-thon to abjure your company.” My breath caught in my throat, and Grav’nan-dahé smiled—a smile as cold as the snow on the Chend’th’nif. “The apprentice was grateful for my advice and understood its wisdom. Davix is a young man whose feelings burn more brightly than his wisdom, and he knows this. I see he gave you that Divinity. One of its meanings is ‘Farewell. We part with no ill feelings.’ You would be showing him the greatest respect by honouring his decision.”
Having sunk these poisoned spikes into my heart, the old bastard turned again and marched off down a dark corridor followed by his entourage. I couldn’t breathe. As much as I wanted to believe everything Grav’nan-dahé said was dragon dung, maybe he was right this time. After all, where was Davix? I knew he liked me all right, but what if I was an obstacle in his religious path? Just a terrible temptation messing up his career?
Or maybe Davix didn’t like me the way I liked him. He had done his holy duty and cared for the Dragon Groom in his time of need, but now that I was healthy again, he took the advice of his magic father figure and made himself scarce. Grav’nan-dahé was right. I would be doing Davix and everyone a favour by flying right the hell out of here. Who did I think I was anyway? Some saviour of the Realm? I was no one but the pathetic fag clown of my high school. I didn’t even deserve a friend, much less an honoured place in some ancient pantheon.
Tears rolling down my face, I walked out of Etnep House onto the stage. The last of the crowd was leaving the Retreat of Tarn, and I was happy to be alone. Happy. Wrong word.
A voice below me said, “Dragon Groom?”
I looked down and saw two kids at the foot of the stage, different in age, but so alike they must have been brother and sister. Both had long, straight hair that hung halfway down their backs, and they were wearing two or three garlands of fresh cut flowers each. In Earth years, the girl looked around twelve, just starting to get some curves and that challenging stare girls suddenly find at that age. The boy was more like nine, all sweet enthusiasm.
“Blessings of Sarensikar,” I said without much feeling, wiping the tears from my eyes.
“Holy One, we would be honoured to lead you to the dance,” the girl said, offering me her hand.
“Thanks, but I just want to go back to my room. I don’t know how to dance anyway.”
The boy cracked up, like I had said the funniest thing in history.
“No, Dragon Groom, you don’t dance. You watch the dancers and cheer for the one you think should win.”
“Be polite, you little wheat weevil. This is the Dragon Groom, not one of your smelly slashball teammates.”
“The Dragon Groom knows I was joking. He’s not brainless like you.”
“Hey, hey!” I interrupted. “Don’t fight, I’ll go to the dance.” It wasn’t like I had anywhere else I needed to be. I climbed off the stage to stand between them, and their animosity immediately turned to excitement. The boy reached out a hand and I took it, offering my other hand to the girl.
The time of my return home was coming, and I was already disconnecting from the Realm. I no longer felt like I had any place here. But when I tried to imagine myself back on Earth, I couldn’t make that picture come into focus either. Had I made a horrible mistake coming to this world? Maybe my copper blood, once ignited, would refuse to cool down again. Maybe I would never again be Crispin of the Realm of Earth. But if I didn’t belong here or there, what the hell was I?
My escorts were very serious about their duties, so I didn’t feel bad about not making conversation as we walked. Still, every now and then, one or the other would sneak a glance at me. After a few times, I timed it so I was making a face when they looked. This quickly turned into a game, and I shook off my gloom before too long and let silliness take over. The road grew steeper, and we broke into a laughing run, speeding perilously down the winding streets until we caught up with the tail end of the crowd, still on the move from sermon to dance. Together with most of the population of Cliffside, we exited through the city gates and emerged onto a flat field.
The Dubious Gift of Dragon Blood Page 20
