Tears of a Dragon

by Bryan Davis

  Sitting near Shiloh, Bonnie felt at peace. Most people grabbed an armrest or laughed nervously when an airplane gave a sudden jolt, but Shiloh never flinched. She seemed immune to fear and doubt, perhaps because she had witnessed God’s protective hand through a generation of torture. Refusing Morgan’s luxurious banquet, she settled for a plant that grew miraculously, exactly when she needed it, in the spilled water of a pitcher pump. The bud at the top of the stalk held a sweet-tasting white bulb that turned horribly bitter in her stomach, but a daily ration of it kept her alive for decades.

  Behind Shiloh, Sir Newman cleared his throat and extended his hands. “Miss Silver, I think I have divined how this game works. May I try the next step?”

  Sir Edmund set a copy of The Art of War on his lap and nudged Sir Newman in the ribs. “Another intellectual pursuit, my friend?”

  Bonnie smiled and let Newman work his fingers into the string. Ever since they had escaped from the candlestone, the knights had been learning about their new world, voraciously reading every book from Sense and Sensibility to Superman and enthusiastically engaging in every new activity from hot-air balloons to hopscotch. Fifteen centuries inside the crystalline prison had stirred up an insatiable appetite for knowledge.

  Marilyn’s voice sounded from the cockpit. “Now take us down a hundred feet.”

  Bonnie swung her head around. As rain pelted the windshield, Billy’s mom pointed at a gauge on the panel. Ashley nodded, her headset and extended microphone bouncing up and down as she pushed the control yoke. “Is that smooth enough?”

  Marilyn, a matching headset pressing down her shoulder-length brown hair, hovered her hands over her own control yoke, allowing it to shift along with Ashley’s maneuver. “Perfect. I should’ve known you’d learn fast. You could probably fly this bird already.” She pressed a button on a colorful screen in the middle of the dashboard. “The only thing I haven’t taught you is how to use the GPS, but you can see the airstrip on the map. It won’t be long now.”

  Karen’s red head bobbed up from behind the pilot’s seat, her face tinted green. “Thank God!” She sat back and tightened her seatbelt. “Let’s get this bucking bronco on the ground before I run out of barf bags.”

  Sir Patrick unbuckled his seatbelt and grasped Karen’s seat. He ripped open a small foil pouch, took out a pill, and reached it forward. “Better take another one,” he said softly.

  As Karen took the pill with a swig of water, Patrick glanced at Shiloh and Bonnie. He smiled, the crow’s-feet around his eyes more pronounced than Bonnie remembered. When they met in England, he seemed heartier, livelier.

  Patrick locked his gaze on Shiloh, his eyes adoring. After losing his daughter for forty years, it seemed that he wanted to drink in every second of her presence. He patted Karen on the shoulder and leaned back in his seat.

  Marilyn gave one of the gauges a light tap on its glass surface. “Now take a peek at the altimeter every few seconds while we’re descending and I’ll show you—”

  A flash of light zoomed past the right side of the plane, too fast to tell what it was. The plane suddenly rocked to the left, tipping its wing nearly straight up. Marilyn snatched her yoke and corrected, throwing Merlin II to the right, then back to the left again before stabilizing.

  Marilyn barked into her microphone. “Security breach? What are you talking about?”

  Ashley pressed her hands over the headset earpieces. “Restricted airspace? How could we be in restricted airspace?”

  Bonnie leaned forward. It was torture not knowing what the two pilots were hearing.

  Marilyn gripped the control yoke with both hands and shouted, “This is Cesna N885PE calling Elkins/Randolph County air control. We are not in restricted airspace. We’re over the West Virginia mountains, for crying out loud! Call off the escort jet!”

  Marilyn banked the plane hard to the left. Bonnie felt her body press against the seat as if she had gained fifty pounds.

  Marilyn’s face twisted with anger. “We will not proceed to Elkins airport or any other airport!”

  Ashley kept her hands over her ears, her eyes growing wider.

  Marilyn’s eyebrows shot upward. “Shoot us down! Are you nuts? We’re not commercial or military, and there are children on board!”

  Marilyn nodded several times, then sighed. “Two miles south of Elkins, runway thirty-two, fourteen. Roger. I copy.” She threw off her headset. “This can’t be for real! Someone’s after Bonnie. I’m sure of it.”

  Ashley spun around. “Karen! Fire up the handheld and send Larry our coordinates! Maybe he can figure out a way to confuse the jets.”

  Karen, holding her fingers over her puckered lips, rummaged through a duffle bag behind the pilot’s seat. She gasped. “Busting . . . into radar systems . . . might take a while.” She withdrew Ashley’s palmtop computer from the bag. The plane suddenly dropped a dozen feet before catching itself. Karen clutched her stomach and tossed the computer forward. “You talk to him. I think I’m going to hurl.”

  Ashley snagged the computer out of the air and yelled into it. “Larry! You got our location and those airstrip coordinates I told you about?”

  “Of course.”

  “Do you have any way of finding jets in the area and calling them off?”

  “Give me two seconds.”

  Bonnie slipped her hand into Shiloh’s and clutched it tightly as the plane continued to dance in the wind.

  “I hacked into a network of local radar sites, but I can’t send commands.”

  “How many jets are we dealing with?”

  “Exactly zero.”

  “Zero? What are you talking about?”

  “Zero as in zilch, nil, nada, the absence of any quantity. Simply put, there are no jets.”

  Sir Patrick squeezed into the cockpit and reached for Marilyn’s headset. “May I?”

  She nodded. “Go for it.”

  Patrick pushed the set over his head and barked into the microphone. “Listen, you demonic scoundrel! It doesn’t take a dragon to figure out who you are. We’re not the gullible fools you’re accustomed to dealing with, so just get lost. We’re not landing.”

  A voice answered, reverberating through the cabin, penetrating it from the outside. “Perhaps a more direct form of persuasion will convince you otherwise.”

  The flash of light zoomed by again. Shiloh pressed her nose against the glass. “I saw it! It had white armor and huge, powerful wings, like a warrior angel!”

  Patrick slipped the headset off, his gaze upward as though he were trying to see through the ceiling. Newman wadded the string in his hands and peered out the window, his eyes searching all around. “One of those demon creatures, I’ll wager. One of the Watchers.”

  More flashes of light zipped past the front of the plane. Ashley followed them with her finger. “I see two! No, three! They’re zooming all around!”

  A loud, metallic thump sounded. Merlin II rocked to the side again. Karen, her face now white, grabbed her seatbelt and cried out, “I saw one bump the plane! They’re trying to make us crash!”

  Bonnie closed her eyes, praying with all her might. They needed help, and fast! Another bump snapped her eyes open again. A face appeared at her window, its eyes seemingly on fire, staring at her. It seemed to snarl, showing a set of upper fangs, then, with slow, deliberate strokes, it licked its lips with a long, black tongue.

  Bonnie jerked her head away, a wave of nausea erupting in her stomach. Sir Patrick leaped up and pushed his way in front of Bonnie and Shiloh. He pulled both girls close to his chest, his arms over their heads. “Whatever you do, don’t look them in the eye. It will flame their passions.”

  “Look!” Marilyn shouted. “A dragon! Bonnie, is that your mother?”

  Bonnie turned toward the window. The evil face had disappeared. She leaned under Patrick’s arms and peeked through the rain-streaked glass, catching sight of the awesome creature, its leathery wings beating against the storm. “I see the dragon, but it’s not Harta
nna. I don’t know who she is.” The dragon spewed a stream of bright orange flame.

  Sir Edmund unbuckled his belt and lumbered to the front of the plane, leaning into the cockpit and balancing his body against the rough ride. He squeezed between Marilyn and Ashley and gazed out the windshield. “I see her. It’s Thigocia! I would recognize her anywhere! She’s a war dragon, the second best I’ve ever seen. As a teenager, I rode her in the Weary Hill Assault, back when dragons and humans were still allies. Newman rode in the battle as well.”

  “So did the dragons always carry riders into battle?” Bonnie asked.

  “Usually, yes. Dragons are fiercely independent, so they are not adept at organizing their attacks or defenses.” Another jolt shook the plane, and Edmund braced himself against the co-pilot’s seat. “When trained knights ride them, shouting maneuvers in their ears and whistling to each other, they all work together in magnificent array.” He pointed out the side window. “Look. There are at least three other dragons out there, and the Watchers are grouping at a lower elevation to the right. The dragons need to make a thirty-degree bank and engage head-on, or the Watchers will be able to attack with their darkness spells.”

  Ashley grimaced. “Darkness spells?”

  “It’s a legend Thigocia told me about, but there’s no time to explain. She needs my help, so I must get her attention.” Edmund waved his hand in front of the windshield. “If she doesn’t know I’m coming, she won’t be ready to catch me.”

  Bonnie peeled off her backpack straps. “I’ll carry you to her!”

  The plane suddenly dipped. Edmund grabbed the copilot’s chair again and spread his feet to balance. “Young Miss, it’s too dangerous. I dare not ask you!”

  Patrick backed into the aisle, and Shiloh pulled the pack away from Bonnie’s collapsed wings. Bonnie unfurled them as far as she could in the cramped quarters. “You didn’t ask me.” She pulled the sleeves of her sweatshirt down to her wrists and firmed her chin. “I’ve carried you before. I can do it again.”

  Edmund’s lips thinned out over his angular face. “Very well, maiden. I should have learned by now that you are brave beyond words.” He pointed a finger at her. “But you must promise to steer clear of the battle once you have released me. You have no weapons.”

  Bonnie gave a quick nod. “I promise. I’ll land right away.”

  “I’ll move closer to the dragons,” Marilyn said as she pulled the throttle back and banked to the right. “Bonnie, how will you find the airstrip once you’re on the ground? You can’t wander in the wilderness by yourself.”

  Ashley tucked her miniature computer in the waistband of Bonnie’s jeans. “Larry can track the magnetic reckoning chip in this unit. He won’t let her get lost.” She flipped a switch on top. “Just talk right into it. Larry will be listening.”

  Marilyn kept her hand on the throttle. “Ashley, strap back in. As soon as they’re out, I’m going to get us down as fast as possible. With the cargo door open, it’ll be a lot rougher.”

  “A lot rougher?” Karen moaned, closing her eyes. “Tell me when it’s over!”

  Edmund clapped his hand on Newman’s shoulder. “Will you join me?”

  Newman unbuckled his belt. “Just say the word!”

  “One minute after you see me straddle Thigocia, you must jump. I’ll make sure one of the dragons is ready to catch you. We will use the Weary Hill strategy in battle.”

  Newman’s eyes brightened, his wispy mustache twitching above a big, toothy grin. “Brilliant!”

  Bonnie scooted over to the cargo hatch on the left side of the rear of the plane, folding in her wings and keeping her head low. The hatch was divided into two sections. The upper half had hinges at the top so that it would swing up and out, while the lower half had hinges on the right designed to make it swing toward the front of the plane. She found the upper lever, and Edmund helped her push the door open.

  Wind and rain poured through, beating their faces with violent, wet slaps. The buzz of the propeller drilled into her ears. The plane rode up and down on the wind like a buoy on the high seas.

  Edmund tried to open the lower half of the door, but the rushing air pinned it closed. “We’ll have to climb over it,” he shouted.

  “No problem,” Bonnie said, tying her hood in place. “You ready?”

  Edmund took a deep breath. “Let’s go!”

  Bonnie pulled her wings in tightly as they lifted their legs over the lower door. Once they were both seated on the top edge, she wrapped her arms around Sir Edmund’s waist and pressed her chest against his back. She held her breath as they tipped over the side and fell into the empty gray air.

  Billy handed Arlo his cell phone, but paused, squinting at him. “How do I know you’re not possessed by a Watcher again?”

  “A What-cher?”

  Billy waved toward the valley. “When you were hunting down there, did you see a bright, angel-like creature just before the storm hit?”

  “Shore did. I thought it was a ET of some kine. Nearly spooked the bones right outta me. But I don’t ’member nuthin’ after that,”—he nodded toward a clump of trees—“until I found myself layin’ in the mud over thar.”

  Billy felt no danger, but he raised his pendant and cast its light on Arlo’s face. No change.

  Arlo smiled a gap-toothed grin. “Is that a ruby?”

  Billy tucked the pendant under his shirt. “Close. A rubellite.” He reached down to help Walter up. “C’mon, lazybones, let’s see if you can walk. I couldn’t get anyone on the phone, so we have to get going.”

  Walter grasped Billy’s wrist, pain contorting his face. His grip slid away, and he clutched his chest. “Something’s wrong,” Walter said, his eyes barely visible through his grimace. “I can’t move my legs, and my heart’s doing jumping jacks.”

  Billy dropped to his knees. “Okay! Just relax! We’ll think of something.” He looked up at Arlo and shouted louder than he intended. “Any ideas?”

  Arlo squatted at Walter’s side. “That heart jumpin’ happened to me when lightnin’ struck me right in the noggin. Purt near killed me and addled my brain. I was nuttier ’n squirrel scat for a week.” He grabbed Walter’s wrists and pulled. “Help me hoist ’im over my shoulder. The sooner we get some help, the better.”

  Billy helped raise Walter to his feet. “Hear that, Walter? We’re going to get you to a doctor.”

  No answer. Walter’s eyes had closed, and his limbs hung loose. Billy gulped through a tightening throat, steadying his best friend’s body while Arlo pushed his shoulder under Walter’s waist.

  The old hillbilly lifted Walter as easily as he would a burlap bag of peanuts. “You ready to go?”

  “I’ll catch up with you.” Billy glanced around frantically, shivering hard. “I just have to find my sword.”

  “Suits me.” Arlo set out across the mud-slicked hill, Hambone sniffing the trail ahead of him.

  Billy hustled toward the cave, his eyes darting back and forth. Excalibur had to be around somewhere. As his own heart raced, Billy thought about Walter and his collision with the force field. Bonnie had done the same thing back in the circles, and her heart went kind of crazy. Then she died.

  Billy swiped dripping water from his eyes with the back of his hand. He had to find the sword, and fast. He dashed into the cave and saw a glimmer at the base of their refuge ledge. Ah! There it was! He snatched it up and thrust it into his back scabbard, taking off at a trot. Fortunately, with such a heavy burden, Arlo was only a hundred yards or so down the slope.

  Billy shielded his face while searching the skies. The gray canopy seemed forbidding, almost unearthly. Even the raindrops felt funny, tickling his cheeks, as though his inner danger sensation had crawled out onto his skin. Maybe it was like acid rain, just enough impurities in the water to produce a miniscule chemical reaction.

  A streak of light flashed overhead and vanished. What could that have been? A weird kind of lightning? He lowered his head and picked up his pace. It was
time to really get moving!

  Hurricane-like winds seized Bonnie’s wings and threw her body against the rear fuselage. Her head banged against the tail section. Sharp pain jolted her spine, and Edmund nearly slipped through her arms. Darkness flooded her eyes as she plummeted through the whipping storm. Fighting gale and gravity and battling to stay conscious, she redoubled her grip on Edmund. Through bleary vision and blinding rain, she spotted a dragon diving to meet her. The huge creature glided underneath, and Bonnie plopped Edmund just behind one of her protruding spines. A gust blasted Bonnie to the side, but the job was done. Now she could take her time gliding downward while keeping watch on the action up above.

  Three Watchers and nine dragons flew all around Merlin II. The Watchers zipped from place to place, like shining dragonflies—speedy and miraculously agile. The dragons, slower and more methodical, created a ring around the plane. Two of the dragons now carried humans, Sir Edmund on one dragon’s back, and Sir Newman dangling from another’s teeth. The second dragon stretched her long neck and placed Newman securely between two spines on her back.

  The two mounted dragons took places near each airplane wing. Two other dragons flew in front, two behind, and three seemed to be flying shotgun, aiming flaming missiles at any Watcher that dared draw near. Every few seconds a demon launched a black lightning bolt that streaked like a jagged stream of darkness toward a dragon. The dragons parried with fire, scorching any bolts that came near, evaporating them instantly.

  Bonnie strained her eyes, trying to pierce the sheets of rain, but as much as she wanted to watch, she knew she had to keep her promise. She turned downward, looking for the airstrip or any open field to make a safe landing. Finding a small patch of grass, she glided toward it, her back and legs tingling as she neared the ground. She yanked down her hood and rubbed the back of her head. That bump against the plane must have given her a real jolt. Landing on the run, she splashed through a waterlogged meadow, skidding a few feet before coming to a stop. She found a gentle slope with extra thick grass and lay on her back, spreading her wings behind her. As she watched the drama high above, she shielded her eyes to block the incessant downpour.