Drachengott

by K J Taylor

  Nils straightened up. I can, he said. I can take his soul, just as I took his.

  Your father’s . . . Syn looked him in the eye. Theodor, you must make me a promise. Don’t tell your father what I am. He can’t know. To him I am human. He doesn’t know the truth about me.

  Why not? asked Nils.

  Because if I told him who I am, he would hate me, she said. He would try to kill me, as he did the last time he saw me in this shape.

  Nils spat. He hates all dragons. I hate him.

  No. Syn pressed the tip of her muzzle against his. He has a reason to hate me. The first time we met, I killed his brother and tried to kill him as well. I was commanded to do it by the Jüngen who summoned me. But the Drachengott betrayed me, and now my purpose is to see him dead by any means. I need your father’s help to do it, and yours as well, but if the truth about me was known, then the future I saw in my dreams would never come to pass.

  Then, you were born a dragon?

  Yes.

  Nils dug his talons into the ground. What future? he asked. What dreams?

  I see the future in my dreams, said Syn. I saw you, and your father, and a woman named Elynor. And one other, whom I still have to find. Four heroes, four weapons. Your father was the first I found, and I gave him the gift of magic and helped him to find the Magic Taker. He trusts me, but if he knew . . .

  Then you lied to him, Nils said harshly. The way you lied to me.

  No! Syn’s head came up, and her red eyes blazed. I never lied to you. I didn’t know you were my son when I first found you. And your father—

  You lied to him, said Nils.

  I had to! There was real pain in her voice. Please, I . . . I love him. You have to understand that. And if he knew the truth, he would not love me anymore.

  So you lied to him, Nils said flatly. He was pulling away from her now, his spiked tail lashing. You used him. And now you want to use me as well, just so some dream you had can come true? You’re . . . He hissed. You’re evil, Syn. That’s what you are. Your name is perfect for you.

  Syn faltered. I never meant—

  Well, you can forget it. Nils hissed at her, steam rising from his nostrils. I’m not your little toy; I go my own way. And I don’t need you or anyone else. He snatched up the Soul Thief. Go away, mother. Never talk to me again.

  He took off, clutching the weapon, his heart hardening with every wingbeat.

  His wounds ached, but he ignored them, and when Syn called after him he ignored her as well. He didn’t even want to look at her anymore.

  Ahead, the Drachengott’s mountain grew larger. He could see the shape of the monstrous dragon, his hunched wings outlined against the sky. Other, lesser dragons swarmed above him. There were more of them than he had ever seen before in one place. Did they know what had happened at Drachenburg? Were they gathering now to strike back against the Dragonsbane and his followers?

  Either way, it didn’t matter to Nils. They would be useful cover for him.

  He reached the mountain as the sun began to sink on the horizon, and the other dragons were still in the sky. There must have been at least two hundred of them, endlessly circling. Below them, the Drachengott waited in silence, scarcely even moving.

  From above he somehow managed to look even bigger than he had from the ground. His rough grey flanks moved slowly in and out, drawing in enough air with each breath to blow down a city, and the line of his spiked back was like a living mountain ridge. But the spikes themselves looked old and weathered, their sides jagged, and the tips crumbling. The edges of the Drachengott’s scales were the same — he had none of the glossy shine of Nils or any other dragon, and the small trees and other plants growing between them made it look as though he were slowly losing his own shape and merging into the mountain beneath his talons.

  Nils’s throat squeezed itself shut at the sight of him, and sickening awe thumped into his stomach. How could anyone ever hope to fight the Drachengott — and how could they even dare to? Better to try and drink the ocean, or beat down a castle wall with a stick.

  But it was already too late to turn back. Even as Nils began to falter, a swarm of other dragons closed in on him. Thief! one roared. Nils the Thief!

  Nils rolled away from them, avoiding a bite aimed at his wing, and panic bit into him — how did they know? But they knew, either way, and in a moment they were on him. But then—

  STOP.

  The Drachengott’s head rose, chunks of rock falling away from his neck and lower jaw, and the dragons suddenly flew away, leaving Nils exposed. He hovered, sick with terror, knowing it was too late to flee as a head the size of a castle turned toward him.

  The Drachengott’s eyes were massive, and the only part of him with any shine, though even that looked dull. They were the colour of old moss, the pupils pitch black, staring straight at Nils.

  THIEF . . .

  Nils clutched at the Soul Thief. Drachengott . . .

  The Drachengott’s jaws opened — his teeth were as jagged as his spines. He made a strange noise, deep in his colossal chest. Not a roar or a growl, but a kind of long, rumbling moan. I HAVE . . . WAITED FOR YOU, he said.

  Me? said Nils, bewildered. You were waiting for me?

  YES. The Drachengott sighed. THERE IS ANGER AND CONFUSION IN YOUR HEART, THIEF. YOU ARE . . . YOUR MOTHER’S SON. BUT, IT IS TOO SOON. TOO SOON . . .

  Nils was about to ask what he meant, but just at that moment another voice split the air. No! Theodor, no!

  Nils turned his head sharply, and saw her coming. Syn, rushing toward him, her dark wings beating frantically. The Drachengott’s eyes turned toward her, and he snarled a single word: YOU.

  The sight of his mother finally brought Nils’s rage back. Without another thought he took the Soul Thief in his front talons, pointed it at the Drachengott, and channelled his magic into it with all his might.

  Black energy struck the Drachengott in the chest, and immediately the Soul Thief began to glow in return — glow with a grey-green energy unlike anything Nils had ever seen. The Drachengott roared — a roar so loud it shook the mountain. NO!

  The Soul Thief continued to do its work, and Nils felt the spear turning red-hot in his grip. His ruby pulsated frantically, and the green-grey glow grew unbearably bright. He could feel the massive energy coming into the stone, and the thought flashed across his mind: he was doing it! He was killing the Drachengott!

  A dull cracking sound shook the spear’s entire length, and the glow suddenly faltered. The black energy flickered and died, and, before Nils could react, an invisible force caught him in a crushing grip. The Soul Thief stopped glowing.

  Nils struggled, but he couldn’t move. The Drachengott’s power held him utterly immobile. Then it started to pull, dragging him toward the giant’s curving muzzle. Nils spat flame at the air. No!

  The Drachengott’s eyes were full of fury. YOU, he snarled, THIEF! YOU WOULD BREAK WHAT MUST BE, WITH YOUR WEAKNESS? YOU—

  Something hit Nils side-on, and in an instant he was falling — tumbling sideways through the air, wings flailing, the Soul Thief clutched in his talons. He heard the Drachengott roar again, and then he hit something hard and rugged. He started to fall down it, and scrabbled frantically for a grip. His free front talon caught hold of a small woody shrub, and he clung onto it for dear life.

  It was only then that he realised he was on the Drachengott’s flank.

  He twisted, turning his head upward to see what was going on, and he saw what had saved him.

  Syn.

  She hung in mid-air, in his place, held there by the Drachengott’s magic, and all the giant’s attention was on her now.

  The shrub suddenly tore away under Nils’s grip, taking a large clump of dirt with it. He opened his wings as he fell, and managed to regain the air.

  Mother! he yelled.

  Syn’s red eyes turned toward him. Go, she called back. Fly away, Theodor. Go to your father — go!

  Nils hesitated. But . . .

 
The Drachengott spared him a glance. GO, he said. THIS ONE WILL SUFFER FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE. TAKE HER PLACE . . . OR GO.

  Go! Syn screamed. Please! You must live!

  Nils fled.

  Chapter Eleven

  Nils didn’t dare look back. He flew for all he was worth, and several other dragons chased him, but not very far. Once he was well away from the mountain, they suddenly turned back, leaving him free to make his escape. If he hadn’t been as exhausted and in as much pain as he was, he might have wondered about that. As it was, he put all his energy into flying, and when he landed, by a small Jüngen settlement at the riverside, it was more of a collapse than a proper landing.

  He lay not far from the city walls, breathing slowly and painfully. His wounds were throbbing, and his head and ruby were just as painful. The Soul Thief was still burning hot against him, and although he was immune to burns it was still painful.

  But it had worked; he had felt it working. If the Drachengott hadn’t stopped him . . .

  Nils’s flanks heaved. For a moment, all he could see was them: the Drachengott and . . . and his mother. His mother, pushing him aside, taking his place. Saving his life. And now she was back there, trapped — being punished.

  The sound and scent of someone coming made Nils start. He raised his head, teeth bared, ready to defend himself — but all he saw were a couple of humans. They were plainly dressed, but both of them wore Jüngen amulets.

  ‘Dragon,’ one called out. ‘Red dragon, are you hurt?’

  Nils tried to get up, but then slumped back. He had no more strength left. Yes, he said weakly.

  The two Jüngen came over to him. One was a man, the other a woman, and both of them looked concerned. ‘Did you escape from Drachenburg?’ the woman asked.

  Yes, said Nils. But I’m fine . . .

  The man took a small pouch from his pocket. ‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘Just lie still and we can help you.’

  Nils smelled the sharp odour of a healing ointment, and he heaved a sigh and rolled onto his side. The two humans inspected his wounds and then got to work on them, the woman using a pair of long-nosed tweezers to pick out dirt and splinters, while her partner washed them out with a stinging medicine before covering them in thick ointment which hardened into a dressing.

  While they worked, the two Jüngen sang prayers to the Drachengott, asking him to grace Nils with a quick healing.

  ‘You’ll be all right,’ the woman said at one point. ‘After all, you’re a dragon — you have the Drachengott’s blessing already.’

  His blessing . . . Nils closed his eyes, feeling the pain of that irony as much as the pain of his wounds. He’d had no blessings. All he’d had from the Drachengott was a curse. And now his mother was in his clutches. Maybe she was already dead, or worse.

  What had she said? Something about a dream of the future, and he’d been in it. Him and a woman called Elynor — Could that be Elynor Überketzer? And Rutger Dragonsbane . . . his father.

  My father. Nils thought of the Dragonsbane’s hard, cold-eyed face. The man had killed so many dragons, and so many humans as well. Maybe his foster mother had been one of them. He probably wanted to kill Nils as well. How could that man be his father?

  Nils’s stomach twisted. His mother a lying dragon, his father a killer of dragons. Was that truly his heritage?

  The two Jüngen finished treating him, and the man said, ‘There. Now you should rest a while until you’re healed.’

  Nils rolled back onto his belly. Thank you.

  He watched them return to the city, and wondered if he should try to follow. But he knew he couldn’t. It was too dangerous. And besides, there was something else he should be doing — But what? He’d failed to kill the Drachengott, so what now?

  The answer was obvious and came quickly enough, but he tried to push it aside. No matter how much he wanted to see the Drachengott dead, he couldn’t bear the thought of going back to Drachenburg, least of all seeing him again.

  Finally, still wrestling with himself, he slipped into a shallow doze.

  While he slept, vague dreams came upon him. Fire . . . he dreamed of fire. It was green, and it was everywhere at once. People and dragons, locked in combat. Someone crying. And four stones. One red, one yellow, one black, one white.

  He woke up at dawn, looked up — and saw two figures flying overhead. A dragon, and a man.

  ***

  Bewildered, his head still aching, Nils struggled to his feet. His wounds had stiffened during the night, and his head still ached. Thanks to that and the dreams, for a good long moment he convinced himself that what he was seeing wasn’t real. There was a dragon above him — a grey one, flying low. But the second shape beside it, although it was about the same size as a dragon, was still definitely human. A human with sheets of some material stretched between his wrists and ankles, as if he were a giant kite. And he was keeping up with the dragon without much effort at all.

  Nils picked up the Soul Thief and looked up at them, wondering whether he should fly up to investigate, but they had already spotted him. For a short time they circled above him, and then they descended. The man came first, and as he drew closer he turned in the air to land feet-first — and Nils recognised him at once, by his scent, his face, and the sword in his hand. He pulled back instinctively, hissing, as Rutger Dragonsbane touched down, propelled by a magical wind which vanished the moment he was on the ground.

  The dragon landed beside him. He was the same grey male Nils had seen at Drachenburg. But, far stranger than that, he had a rider. There was a large tawny yellow cat perched on the dragon’s shoulders, holding onto a small harness. As he landed, the animal leapt down, and before it had hit the ground it transformed into a woman. She was tall and elegant, with glossy blonde hair and bright green eyes. A dagger with a handle carved from a ruby hung from her waist, its blade leaf-shaped and set with a large amber gem in the shape of a teardrop.

  The woman, Rutger and the dragon stood side by side, looking at Nils. The woman spoke first. ‘Is that him?’ She had a soft voice, with a musical Gallien accent.

  Rutger quickly detached the flying sails and tied them into a bundle on his back. ‘Yes, that’s him.’ He looked cautiously at Nils. ‘Theodor?’

  Nils snarled at him. Dragonsbane!

  Rutger glanced at his companions. Neither of them spoke, and he turned back to Nils. ‘Theodor,’ he said, ‘please. Everything’s all right now, I promise. We came looking for you. This is Elynor Überketzer, and Spurling — the leader of the free dragons.’

  Nils bared his teeth at the three of them. Two traitors and a dragon-killer — keep away from me.

  The woman, Elynor, spoke up. ‘Theodor,’ she said, ‘your father told me about you. I know that you’re afraid, lost, confused — you never knew who you were until yesterday. But we are not your enemies.’

  Spurling the grey dragon snorted softly. You are like me, I think, he said. I was cut away from the Drachengott, and on that day my whole world fell apart. I would have lost my will to live if Elynor had not taken care of me. Now, when others are lost, I help them to find their wings again. No matter how far you have gone, there is always a way back.

  ‘He’s right,’ said Rutger. ‘Please, Theodor – I’m not angry with you, and I don’t want to hurt you. I’m here to help you. You’re . . .’ he hesitated. ‘You’re my son. I know you are. I saw you before — You . . . you look like your mother.’

  Nils glared at him, but his anger had started to make him feel tired again. I don’t want to be like her, he mumbled, staring at the ground. She’s a liar. She left me behind.

  ‘She lost you,’ said Rutger. ‘Just as I lost her. But now I’ve found you again, and her. Where is she, Theodor? She went after you — where is she now?’

  Nils looked at him, and at Elynor, and Spurling, and couldn’t find anything to say to them. They stood together, and he noticed the subtle way Spurling had positioned himself, ready to defend his friends if Nils decided to at
tack. They were together, and he . . . he was alone.

  On a sudden impulse, he changed back to his human form. The moment he did, his strength faded. He tried to stand up straight, winced and slumped back, supporting himself with the Soul Thief. Rutger came over and took him by the arm, holding him up. Nils tried to pull away, but Rutger — his father — did not let go.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he said gently. ‘Theodor, it’s all right. You don’t have to be alone anymore. Let us help you.’

  Nils looked up at him. The look in his father’s eyes was as gentle as his voice, his touch warm and strong. ‘You’re not my father,’ he said.

  ‘Yes, he is,’ said Elynor. ‘I can see it. You have his eyes, and his nose as well.’

  ‘I am your father,’ said Rutger. ‘And from now on I will try to act like it, I promise. But where is she? Son, where is your mother?’

  Finally, Nils answered him. ‘The Drachengott has her,’ he said. ‘I— I tried to fight him alone. She . . . saved me.’

  Horror showed on Rutger’s face. ‘The Drachengott — no! Is she alive? He didn’t . . .’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Nils. ‘He said he was going to punish her, for what I did.’ Guilt suddenly came over him. ‘Drachengott, this is all my fault,’ he muttered. ‘What did I . . . what did I do?’ He sagged, clutching at the Soul Thief. ‘What did I do?’ he said again. ‘I — I stole this from the Drachengott, I . . . I blasphemed against him, I tried to . . .’ he gave Rutger an agonised look. ‘I tried to kill you. I did kill you.’

  A pair of arms wrapped themselves around him and, although Nils resisted at first, he surrendered to the embrace. His father held him, Soul Thief and all, and murmured to him as if he were a small boy. ‘It’s all right. Forget it. You didn’t know what you were doing.’

  ‘But I hated you so much,’ said Nils. ‘All I wanted was to kill you, and now I don’t—’

  ‘Shh,’ said Rutger. ‘Don’t torture yourself. It’s over now. I’m fine, and you are, too. But your mother — we have to get her out of there.’

  Nils pulled away from him. ‘We have to fight,’ he said, trying to hide his tears. ‘We have to fight him.’