The Dubious Gift of Dragon Blood

by J. Marshall Freeman

  I shot him eye daggers, and Kriz’mig got between us, as if I might start a fight.

  “It’s because Grav’nan-dahé also loves Davix,” she said. “And feels betrayed by him.”

  “That’s what he calls love?”

  I dropped to the ground with my back against Sur’s tree, wishing she was there to recite an inscrutable poem. My misery felt like tar in my stomach. Then someone tapped me on the shoulder. I was about to bark, “Leave me alone,” when I looked up into a pair of twinkling, mischievous eyes, the eyes of the best, cutest guy in the realm, peeking around from behind the tree. He was smiling like the cat who ate the prize parakeet.

  “Don’t look so troubled, Dragon Groom,” Davix said. “It’s the Day of Jubilation!”

  He pulled me to my feet, and I looked around to see if Grav’nan-dahé had heard. Of course he had.

  “D’gada-vixtet-thon!” he screamed, his face red. Holding hands, we ran from the park, laughing, free, and perfect. Totally tangled.

  Soon we were high up in the city in this tiny, broken old building with most of its roof missing. We were sitting on a straw mattress, our backs against the stone wall. My head rested on his shoulder, and his arm was around me. He had just told me a story that made everything worse.

  “Do you think it’s true?” I asked. “Grav’nan-dahé built a trap to kill the dragons?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t even think Tix-etnep-thon-dahé is sure. I keep going over and over it in my head. On one level it makes sense. It would explain why sheep fog is still flowing from the Chend’th’nif. If Grav’nan-dahé believes Dragons are violating the spirit of the Law…The implications, X’risp’hin! For one thing, it would mean the Prime Magistrate is responsible for Rinby’s death.” I felt him shudder.

  “Yeah, I hear you.” I looked up at a mural Davix told me Kriz’mig was painting. The picture represented the four realms. Earth was the big mama in the middle, surrounded by her three kids: fire, water, and air. I looked at the Earth and thought about all the places I would like to show Davix, everything from a movie theatre to the shore of the Atlantic Ocean.

  I kissed his cheek. “I’m sorry you have to go through this. What will Grav’nan-dahé do to you?”

  “I don’t know. My lapses are minor. Truly. Tix-etnep-thon-dahé will talk to him, calm him down. They’re old, old friends.”

  He kissed my forehead. “I’m just glad I’m here with you now.”

  “Me too.”

  We lay down on the mattress, and things got serious fast. When we were done, I tucked myself back under his arm.

  “D’gada-vixtet-thon,” I said.

  “Yes?”

  “Just saying it. I never called you by your whole name before. ‘Thon’ is the old word for ‘storm.’ That stands for Atmospherics, right?”

  “Correct.”

  “And Vixtet is your Dragon Lord. Lady.”

  He laughed. “Patron of my house, yes.”

  “So that leaves D’gada. Your name.” I felt him tense up a bit. “Can I just call you that? D’gada?”

  “No,” he said, like he was kind of pissed off.

  “What? Why not? It’s a cool name: ‘Hey, D’gada!’”

  He pulled away. “Don’t, it’s embarrassing. It’s too personal, like you’re seeing me without my skin.”

  I sat up and looked at him. “I don’t get it.”

  “Then I can’t explain. It’s our way in the Realm of Fire. Just…please.”

  “Okay, sorry,” I whispered, kissing him softly on the mouth. “You sure no one knows about this place? We’re safe from Grumpy-dahé?”

  “Some of the apprentices come here, that’s it.” Bells rang out all over the city, and Davix’s face lit up with excitement. “The dragons arrive!” He went to sit in the doorway, scanning the sky. “We’ll be able to see from here, but no one will see us.”

  I didn’t say anything. I had been working hard not to think about Vixtet and what I would say if she wasn’t there. She wasn’t going to be there, I knew it. She was probably already dead, and it felt like it was somehow my fault.

  “Come here, quickly,” he said. “The first moment they appear is the best.”

  I joined him reluctantly, sitting in front while he wrapped his arms and legs around me. The fog had, thankfully, thinned, leaving just a misty, cloud-filled sky. The moment seemed to stretch on and on. The whole of Cliffside was silent, like it was holding its breath. And then I saw Sur. She was high overhead, but clearly visible. Behind her was skinny Inby, flying an S-shaped course. Renrit was next, lumbering along with fast strokes of his wings. I wished I had been there to see them toss him from his window.

  I recognized the next dragon by her picture, and relief washed through me. Vixtet, flying strong and steady. Cheers were rising from the city like when the home team scores. Davix was squeezing me so hard, I thought I’d squirt out of his arms like a watermelon seed.

  After a gap in the formation, Queen Etnep came into view. She was the largest and most majestic of the dragons, and I gasped when I saw her. A noise was growing in my head. Gradually, it became words, poetry, incantation, in a form of dragon tongue so old, I only got the rough gist:

  Sk’l’akh’tattakla Khev’nin Dwark’a Kiir.—The ache of separation, the longing for union.

  “Etnep…” I breathed, light-headed, like I was untethered from the earth, floating away. But Davix held me tight, and I came back to myself. “She’s beautiful,” I said, and I was shocked to feel a tear running down my face.

  The dragons didn’t stay long. They circled the city, and we lost sight of them for a bit. Then they were back, flying home to Farad’hil the way they had come. Night, descending swiftly, swallowed them whole. Davix and I stayed there in the doorway, not speaking. Lights winked on in the city, and still we didn’t move.

  Then there was a noise. Davix scrambled to his feet and peeked around the doorframe. He signalled me to be quiet. We slipped into the darkest corner of our little house and stayed absolutely still as the sound of footsteps approached.

  It’ll be okay, I told myself. Davix has it under control. But I was so wrong. Three figures were in the doorway, then in the room, carrying torchstone lanterns, lighting us up like mice on the kitchen counter. They wore sashes and knife belts. Defence of Realm. One of them was Stakrat. She wouldn’t meet our eyes.

  I jumped forward, putting myself between them and Davix. “But his lapses! They’re totally minor!” I shouted. They ignored me.

  The lead man, a severe-looking guy with short hair and a scar under his eye, said, “D’gada-vixtet-thon, you are under arrest for insults against the DragonLaw. You will come with us. Any resistance will be answered with force.”

  Chapter 34: The Day of Reckoning

  Night was falling like an axe. I followed behind the Defence of Realm officers who were walking on either side of Davix, marching him off to dragon jail. Stakrat was one of them, and I couldn’t help totally hating her.

  A third officer shadowed me, saying, “I have orders to escort you back to your quarters, Copper Guest.” I ignored him and kept walking. My face was a stiff, angry mask, and after a while, started to actually hurt. I was afraid I’d start crying if I let up on the fury for even a second.

  Word of the arrest had spread ahead of us, and by the time we reached the next square, a big group of hushed people were staring. That’s where Kriz’mig ran up to me.

  “X’risp’hin, don’t worry,” she said. “Tix-etnep-thon-dahé knows. He’ll talk to Grav’nan-dahé and get Davix released.”

  “This afternoon in the park, Grav’nan wasn’t too interested in what the old man had to say.” I had deliberately left off the “dahé.” My open disrespect shocked Kriz’mig. Good.

  Davix and his two officers had pulled ahead during this conversation, and I was losing track of them in the crowd. I was about to run and catch up when I suddenly lost my will. What could I do on my own? Stick out my tongue at them? Write dirty graffiti on the prison
building? I had to rely on the people who cared about Davix.

  “Fine,” I said to my escort. “Take me to my room.” I turned back to Kriz’mig. “Sorry if I was a jerk. You’ll send me a message if you find out anything, right?” She nodded solemnly and gave me a hug.

  When we reached my room at the top of Etnep House, I was surprised to see another guard already standing on duty outside, a young woman with close-cropped hair and thick eyebrows. My officer gave her a head and heart gesture and left.

  “Copper Guest,” said the new guard. “The Prime Magistrate has requested you stay here until the end of Sarensikar, at which point, you will be escorted back to the Realm of Earth.” She held the door to my room open.

  “I’m a prisoner?”

  “Please don’t think of it that way, Copper Guest. The People love you and are grateful for your visit.”

  I’m the Dragon Groom, I wanted to shout. Not the Copper Guest! The Primate Maggot was getting his way right down the line. I glared at the guard with a stare as cold as a blue and white Popsicle, then went inside, slamming the door behind me. I heard a click. Great. Locked in.

  The room felt smaller and more suffocating than ever, not a romantic fairy tale tower but a jail cell. It reminded me of when my family went to England and saw the Tower of London. I knew it had been a prison for rich traitors, and I was disappointed by what a low and ordinary building it was. I had been expecting a real tower—shiny black stone, fifty stories high, blocking out the sun. There should have been spiked gates and a moat. It should have been guarded by…well, dragons.

  I sat on the bed and sulked until they brought me some dinner, the lock clicking again on their way out. I would have left the food untouched as a sign of protest, but I reminded myself I’d need my strength to save Davix. And it smelled really good. After dinner, I sulked until bedtime. As I fell asleep under the open window, I heard a sweet, high voice singing an unaccompanied lament:

  As Tarn lay dying

  Spear in her side,

  The people crying,

  Her arms opened wide

  “Weep not, my children,

  I have saved the realm

  From Air and Water

  In their armour and helm

  “As I leave you, my People

  Do not dwell on your pain.

  Realms torn asunder

  Will be made one again.”

  “Hey, shut it!” I yelled out the open window. “People are trying to sleep here!”

  In the morning, they brought me breakfast and exchanged my chamber pot for a fresh one. Silently, I dedicated the departing excrement to Grav’nan. The door closed and clicked. I looked out the window, but my view was useless: rooftops in the foreground, and beyond it, the fog-shrouded valley. They would keep me here all day while Davix was…who knows what? Locked in a dungeon? Sent to the mines? Then Tiqokh would carry me home on the strands, and I’d never see him again, never feel his skin against mine. It was like I’d held the ultimate treasure in my hand, only to find out it wasn’t mine at all—just pay-per-view.

  “Tiqokh,” I whispered. “Are you watching?” Of course not. Not when I really needed him. “Tiqokh!” I repeated, shouting this time, my outrage catching fire. I paced five fast circuits around the room and then pounded on the wooden door. “Let me out of here! You have no right to lock me in!” I leaned on the door and rattled the door handle, which, much to my shock, depressed easily. The door swung out into the hall, and I crashed forward on my hands and knees.

  The guard outside immediately jumped to his feet. It was a different guard now, an older guy with uneven teeth.

  “Do you need something, Copper Guest?”

  Still angry, but also feeling stupid, I glared at him as I climbed to my feet. I stepped back inside the room and closed the door again, listening to the mysterious click. I pulled the door open again. “Wasn’t this locked?”

  “No, Copper Guest.”

  I glared more, blushing at the same time. “If I leave, will you try and stop me?”

  “No, Copper Guest, I wouldn’t presume…I wouldn’t dare…”

  “Right. So. Um, I’m leaving. And you can’t stop me.” I closed the door behind me and saw a little table next to the door wobble on its uneven legs, the short leg tapping the floor. Click.

  I ran down and down the stairs and out of the castle, into the final day of Sarensikar. I didn’t know where to go, so I just started wandering out of the Retreat of Tarn and through the streets. Day Three’s holy feature were these flowers that looked like dandelions in their white and fluffy stage, except they were bigger and had blue stems. Everyone was saying prayers over the flowers and then blowing the tufted heads to send the seeds flying.

  I stopped to watch, but everyone acted nervous around me. No one greeted me or asked for blessings or anything. They clearly knew about Davix’s arrest, and the whole realm probably knew Davix and me were doing it. I had become tainted by the whole messy affair, and it felt disturbingly like when Sylvia told the school about me. But this time I didn’t care. This wasn’t about me. I had to save Davix.

  I didn’t know who to ask for help until, finally, this man and woman approached. They were holding hands, leaning into each other. In love. I had only spent a few days in this land where male/female pairs are rarely seen, and already this couple’s boring, old heterosexual affection looked bizarre.

  “Dragon Groom?” the man said, and I felt grateful to be called that, like it was my real name. “We wanted to bring you our greetings and blessings.”

  In her free hand, the woman carried a bunch of the special dandelions. She said, “We are so sorry for the troubles you and D’gada-vixtet-thon are experiencing. We saw you leaving the dance together, and your affection reminded us of our own when we were young.”

  “Thanks,” I mumbled. And even though their sweetness was welcome, seeing all that happiness while Davix and I were about to be ripped apart made me want to scream. “So, how come you guys are allowed to be all touchy-feely?”

  The man beamed a satisfied smile at the woman. “We are truly blessed by the Dragon Lords. From early in our youth, we were desperately tangled for each other. When the Arbiter of Blood declared us compatible, it was almost a miracle.”

  “We are one of only three opposite-sex couples who live together as spouses,” said the woman. “We have already produced two fine children for the glory of the dragons.”

  On Earth, I would have guessed them to be in their early thirties. The guy was kind of a DILF, with his muscular arms and dusting of grey hair at his temple. I looked at them again and saw how right they seemed together. I imagined myself at their age and imagined it was Davix standing with me arm in arm. Maybe we’d have a few kids, too, or maybe not. But I definitely wanted to be part of a couple. With Davix. I felt my eyes tearing up.

  “Please,” I asked. “Can you tell me where they took him? I have to try and fix this.”

  The woman put a hand on my arm, and it reminded me of the way my mom would touch me when I was upset, just a small contact to let me know I wasn’t alone.

  “I believe you will find him at the Citadel,” she said, drawing me out to the middle of the street where we could see over the surrounding buildings. She pointed to the highest part of the city, higher even than Etnep House. “Grav’nan-dahé will be pronouncing sentence in the afternoon, and the Citadel is the most consequential place he could choose.”

  I took a deep breath to calm myself. “But Davix is already there?”

  “Probably,” the man said. “There are holding cells in the Citadel for those who break the law.”

  “I better run, then. Thanks for helping me.”

  The woman took my arm again. “Dragon Groom, wait. Join us in the blessing for the third day of Sarensikar, the Day of Reckoning. It will bring us all good luck.” She handed me a flower, gave one to her husband, and kept the third for herself.

  I held it up in front of my face. “Do I blow on it?”

  Th
e man said, “Wait until I’ve said the blessing. Oh, Mighty Dragons, as these petals fly far and wide, so may you lift the fog from before our eyes and reveal the perfect balance of your world.”

  “May it be so,” said his wife, and the three of us blew.

  I watched the little parachutes floating away. “You really think the fog will lift tonight?” They nodded, their faces solemn and filled with hope. Wouldn’t it be great if they were right?

  Chapter 35: Blood in the Citadel

  Whatever it was planning to do later, the fog was still dense around me as I hiked up to the Citadel. When it parted momentarily, I caught glimpses of heavy rectangular walls that looked like they really meant business. The huge gates of wood and iron stood open, and just inside them I met Grentz.

  “X’risp’hin!” he called. “I was hoping you’d find your way.”

  Clammy with sweat from my climb, I steadied myself with a hand on his muscled shoulder and caught my breath. “Is Davix here?”

  “Yeah, follow me.”

  Inside the gate, the street continued rising steeply, but now it was banked by those steep stone walls. The road ended in a wide courtyard with a square tower in each corner. Walkways criss-crossed the inner surface of the walls with slit windows at eye level. For archers, I knew, like in that medieval first-person shooter game I used to play.

  “What’s the story of this place, Grentz?”

  “Back in the days when the strands were strong, the Realm of Fire was often attacked by the other realms. All the People gathered in the Citadel to fend off the foe.”

  I looked up at the open sky. “But dragons fly. How do the walls help?”

  “Most of the time, the wars were fought with ground troops. But if an attack came from above, the People went down those stairs to the bunker.” He pointed to a half dozen stairwells scattered across the courtyard, the steps vanishing into the darkness below. The entrances were all blocked off by wooden barricades, like there was construction happening. Grentz pointed to the far corner of the Citadel. “Come on, Davix is being held in that tower.”