And because Sigrid, Terence, and Lila, cannot talk to the dragons as I can – their dragons could not communicate with them about what has upset them so greatly. I saw what was going wrong now. The dragons Morax and Socolia wanted to warn their human riders of the danger; and when the human riders did nothing or could not respond to their fears, both dragons are trying to find a way to save them and their riders from it.
I told Neill what was going on, who looked aghast at the trouble that this could cause for all of us.
“Sigrid is on her own,” he said. “She won’t be able to guide Socolia as Terence and Lila can.”
I nodded. “But we can try to calm their dragons… Pax?” I spoke out loud.
“I will try…” The Crimson Red beneath me growled, before sending a stream of cooing, wittering sounds in the direction of Morax. I once again felt the pressure-filled buzz of invisible communication as Paxala talked to Morax, and, I saw in front of me the Blue start to slow his rapid wing beats, and squawk in nervousness and agitation – but at least he wasn’t threatening to fly off, away from Zaxx’s scent as before.
“I have done what I can, but Morax will want to return home,” Paxala growled. “And we are only lucky that the other riderless dragons are upwind of Zaxx’s scent at the moment. When they catch it, they are sure to scatter.”
“The refugees of Sheerlake will have to guard the Blood Baron prisoners on their own. They are not far from Fort now, anyway,” I said, quickly conversing with Neill behind me, who saw that it was a good plan.
“Let Morax, Terence and Lila return to the crater and get some rest,” Neill said. “We will go after Socolia and try to calm her down.”
And, with an encouraging and bloodthirsty challenge from Paxala into the bright airs, we flew south.
The ground beneath us moved from speckled rivers, woodlands, hills and meadows to the wider fields and plains of the southern half of the Middle Kingdom. There was no fear of losing Socolia’s scent, as a hunting dragon can scent a fish in the waters of a lake although many hundreds of feet above – but that consolation still did nothing for our nerves.
What if she gets attacked? What if Zaxx is close by? I thought, again and again as we raced over greener and golden lands.
Zaxx’s scent was still strong, but it was starting to fade just a little as we flew, and with it, I could feel the anxiety and pent-up aggression of the dragon beneath me subside as well.
“Do you think that he did it on purpose?” Neill was asking. “Zaxx, I mean – laying tracks that he knew would scare up the dragons. But why would he do that? Just to upset our work?”
“I wouldn’t put it past him,” I muttered darkly. “Terence said that they heard a roar – that had to be Zaxx nearby, right?” What game is that old toad playing, I thought, as we passed over lands that were soft and gentle, and with high currents of warmer air. We can’t be far from the southern border with the Southern Kingdom of Prince Griffith, Terence’s father, I thought, wondering if I could see an orange haze start to appear on the far southern horizon. The lands of the Southern Kingdom, my father had told me, were characterized by steaming, hot oases, and forests as well as broad empty lands where nothing but rock and sand could grow. I had never been there (nor this far south, at all), and I had no intention of my first visit to those far lands to be under such a dark cloud!
But Zaxx could be anywhere, my heart hammered.
“Not anywhere. I would sense him, wouldn’t I?” Paxala consoled me.
“Yes, of course.” But still, the sudden incursion of that monster into our lives made me feel edgy and panicked. Like all that we were accomplishing was for naught, if he could just fly by and kick over our carefully laid plans like a giant child.
As the sky started to darken on our right, and the stars pricked the scattering clouds, Paxala informed me that she had tracked Socolia and Sigrid down. They were still flying, heading south, although Socolia was tired. I was sure that Paxala underneath me must also be tired by now, although she said nothing about it if she were.
Before long, Paxala called out a note of warning, and finally, looming in the twilight, I saw a dark shadow moving through the sky. The stocky green dragon, wavered in her flight and answered with a hooting call. Socolia’s wings drooped, as even she had to accept that she was tired, and the relief of having another friendly dragon nearby clearly made her feel all of the air leagues that she had flown.
Beneath me, Paxala wittered, clicked, and whistled at the Green, and from the shapes of the thoughts I could sense through our connection, I knew that my dragon sister was consoling and calming her, although I could not make out what she actually said.
Eventually, once we’d flown close enough to see the form of Sigrid atop her, waving back at us, the Green slowed and turned back in a lazy circle towards us, and the northwest direction of home.
“I don’t know what happened!” Sigrid wailed from the back of the tired green dragon. She looked awfully ashamed, as if she had done something wrong. “We were flying just as you had directed, keeping watch over the prisoners and the refugees of Sheerlake, and then all of a sudden we heard a distant bellowing roar, and Socolia startled and panicked.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Neill said. “It was Zaxx. We think he’s trying to disrupt the crater dragons, prevent them from doing what they want to.” Neill glowered, and I saw the look of apprehensive fear on Sigrid’s face. No one had any answers to what to do about Zaxx– not yet.
“We have to find a way to counter him,” I announced, causing emphatic nods of agreement from both Sigrid and Neill as we flew in tandem back home, sharing each other’s slipstream in turns.
“And we have to find a way to communicate better,” Neill said. “With the dragons in the sky, and between riders. The battle at Sheerlake had me thinking, and now this…” He fell silent, a look of intense concentration on his face. “The riders need to be more in tune with their dragons, and the dragons need better training if this is going to work.”
“But it’s not all bad,” I reminded myself. “Zaxx isn’t here, and we solved the problem – or rather,” I admitted, “Paxala has done it – she found and returned Socolia and Sigrid, when you and me, Neill, would have been totally lost.”
“Thank you,” I felt a brush of the dragon’s mind against mine, and a sense of pride at what she had achieved. It was a pride that I shared in her, as it seemed to me that she was on the verge of becoming a real leader to her comrades, and maybe one day, even a matriarch.
“Matriarch – what is that word?” Paxala asked me, purring in my mind at the adoration and praise that I was heaping on her.
“It’s like a mother, but a mother who is in charge of everything, not just her children,” I said. I knew all about this, as half of the wild mountain clans of my own family operated by a system of wise woman matriarchs, and not the large and loud, generally bearded male chiefs.
“Pfft! Dragons have brood mothers, who would make excellent queens if we can get rid of the bulls!” Paxala growled at the thought of any bull telling her what to do. “And I have yet to find another dragon whom I would even consider for a mate!”
That was an entirely other complication that I hadn’t even thought about yet: what would happen when the crater started to produce more broods, hatchlings, and newts? How would they manage their mating rights without the presence of the bull? Would Paxala get to choose whom she wanted? I couldn’t force her to choose a mate – I wouldn’t, I thought with conviction. Not after what my father had tried to do, to marry me off to the Tar Clan in return for their mountain warriors. As it was, Tobin Tar had been a good man, and hadn’t wanted to marry an unwilling wife anyway – all that would have come of my father’s plans would have been two unhappy people. Was it much different with dragons? Or was it all about just securing the next generation of newts? Isn’t that what any clans lord wants as well, though?
“I WILL get to choose, thank you very much!” Paxala said with a snort of indignati
on, making me smile, but still the questions lingered at the back of my mind.
“Of course you will, Pax, I couldn’t dream of anything else for you.” I knew well what it was like to have your society order an arranged marriage for you, as I had only narrowly escaped one myself!
But I hadn’t thought of what would happen the day that Paxala chose to raise a brood. Was it even safe to raise a brood at the moment, the way that we were threatened by Zaxx’s presence out there in the world? I felt a small spike of jealousy, too, at the idea of not being the center of the Crimson Red’s attention. Is that what will happen? Will I become just a friend from Paxala’s childhood?
“Silly Char,” Paxala enfolded me with her feelings of warm rebuke. “Char will always be my sister, and human-aunt to any eggs I decide to hatch.” I felt honored, and, despite all of the worries and the terrible threat of Zaxx somewhere nearby, I even felt hopeful as we finally saw Mount Hammal, the Dragon Mountain rising over the horizon to the north. But that was before we learned of the strange tiding awaiting us at the monastery.
Chapter 9
Neill, Jodreth, & Darker News
We arrived at Mount Hammal just as the night was starting to lighten towards dawn, and all five of us were exhausted. By my reckoning, we had flown nonstop for an entire day, and covered a massive area of land. I was saddle sore and weary, but I was also faring better than Sigrid and Char were, as my experience with riding ponies and horses paid off, it seems, when dragon riding.
“Neill? Char?” It was Dorf, clearly worried as he came down the wall steps towards the still-as-yet unfixed ruins of the rear wall. He held a wavering, guttering torch that highlighted the broken bits of masonry like broken teeth. We had landed just beyond it, with Char taking her leave of Paxala and Socolia who had gratefully flown back to the crater, where, even now I could hear squawking and calls as the other dragons either greeted or challenged the Green who would disturb their rest.
“What now?” Sigrid said at our side, stumbling on weary feet and rubbing her eyes.
“Don’t worry,” I told the tall and thin girl, her blonde hair disheveled from all the flying she’d done. “Get to bed, Sigrid, I’ll see to this,” I said – although, given the look of alarm on Dorf’s face, I wasn’t entirely sure that I would be able to.
But this was what my father would have done, I found myself thinking as I trudged towards the well, beckoning Dorf to talk to me there as I doused my head in cold and fresh mountain water. The shock to my system made me feel more awake, though the fatigue and tiredness wasn’t lifted from my bones.
I guess something happened to me after Sheerlake and my father’s tomb, I thought as I stripped off my greaves and gauntlets and stretched. It was strange to be thinking of my father now, in the past tense, and strange to think that he had wanted me to do this, and that he was now even more of a role model to me than he had been before. I felt like I could see my father’s decisions compared to how my brothers were running Torvald lands, and I could begin to see why my father acted as stern as he did, and how dedicated he was.
He always put the people first, I thought tiredly, starting to feel very small indeed under such a heavy, heavy burden.
“It’s Jodreth,” Dorf said.
Oh by the stars, what’s happened now? I thought in alarm as Char joined us, yawning. “Is he all right?”
“Oh yes, well, if you count a broken heart all right. He’s had a row with Nan Barrow, the cook, over the fact that he’s leaving.”
“Leaving?” I said, startled. “You don’t mean…actually leaving, do you?”
Dorf shrugged, his eyes cautious. “I couldn’t say. He started packing up things earlier this afternoon, scavenging bits of tack, a pony, extra feed, rope, all the sorts of things you’d need if you were going on a long expedition, and he told Maxal Ganna to look after the student Mages now, as Jodreth wouldn’t be around, and that he didn’t know if he was going to come back.”
“Has he left?” I asked, frustration clutching at me as Char groaned. “Char – get some rest, please,” I asked her.
“Why? If you’re not going to sleep – then why should I?” Char pointed out, grumpy and indignant.
Fair enough, I suppose, I thought. I was just so tired. I shook my head that it was no matter, and sent Dorf back to his wall duty. Then, with Char following close behind, I started off in the direction of the Kitchen Gardens, where I knew that Nan would usually already be up, baking the day’s bread. Char following close behind.
Next to the old stables was the small door that led to the Kitchen Garden, a place enclosed in thick brick walls and warmed by the underground vents and steam of the mountain itself. The plants were already growing strong here, just as they did every year thanks to Nan and the kitchen staff’s consistent care.
But the kitchen itself seemed to be in a state of chaos, as pots were being clattered, and angry words exchanged behind the frosted-glass windows.
“No, that is the ladle, and that is the soup spoon!” Nan said tersely as we rounded the kitchen. That wasn’t like Nan, I thought in alarm. She was one of the first people that I had met coming to this place, and one of the only adults to always show me some kindness, no matter the color of my skin or the circumstances of my birth.
The broad kitchen was in a state. Half of the hearth fires were still unlit, the tables were piled with pots that needed sorting and washing, and half-unfinished projects were scattered all over the tables.
“This isn’t like Nan,” Char said at my side.
“Well, these times aren’t the same either, are they?” The plump and usually smiling form of Nan appeared, but now she looked miserable. “And unless the pair of you have come to help wash up, then I really don’t have time…”
“Of course.” Char and I moved to the counters, rolled up our sleeves, and started to stoke fires, draw water, and ferry the pots back and forth to be plunged into the hot water and scrubbed. Even though we were both exhausted, it felt good to be doing routine, monotonous tasks after all of the war-like battle planning and worrying about the imminent threat of Zaxx.
“Nan?” I heard Char ask as she worked. “What is this we hear about you and Jodreth?”
“Oh, that idiot has got one of his hare-brained schemes in his head again, and now he’s told me that he might never see me again!” Nan said with real vehemence in her voice. “I mean, how could he? After all that we’ve been through? And here’s me with my arms up to my elbows in work as half of the staff have run off after Abbot left.”
“Really?” My ears shot up. “Do the staff have that much loyalty for the old Abbot?” I asked.
“No, of course not.” Nan shook her head as she started to pound dough. “Once again, it’s Jodreth’s fault. He told them the news that this monastery was going to be very important to a lot of people, even more people, and that the Prince Vincent was even starting to mobilize his forces to come here. Jodreth had meant it as a warning, and I guess, in his addle-minded way a sort of rallying cry, but instead all it did was scare off half of the best workers I have – not that I can blame them.”
“Nan!” Char said in alarm as the sun started clipping the horizon, and warm, golden light was flooding in from the east. “You’re not thinking of leaving us, are you?”
“Oh, of course not,” the woman sighed, her anger and temper draining out of her in one long, slow groan. “Although the heavens search me why not, with all of this work on my shoulders! No, I would never leave all of you to fend for yourselves, and the dragons to whatever schemes Vincent has in mind. But the staff aren’t Dragon Mages, or Protectors, or Scribes, or whatever else you have going on up there in the stone halls. They are just simple folk from the village below, who have a passing respect for the dragons, and who want to do some good in the world. They don’t want to be frightened, beaten, imprisoned, or at war for the sake of washing a few pots,” Nan said.
I could have groaned. How could I have been so blind? Why hadn’t I thought about them
as well? What with trying to placate the older Draconis Order monks that, if they loved dragons they should stay, and trying to find ways to keep the walls guarded, and getting the students to interact more with the dragons, I had completely ignored that the monastery wasn’t just a building of stone and books. It was a community. It needed a community to make it work.
“I’m so sorry, Nan. I’ll see if I can get some of the students down here to help…” I said, as I worried about Nan’s next words.
“And Jodreth has taken it upon himself to ride off, just when we need all hands on deck, everyone pulling in the same direction, to try and track down where the Abbot Ansall has vanished to!” Nan said, her stern exasperation dissolving into what had been at the heart of her temper: worry.
“He’s going to try and bring the Abbot to justice. He says that we cannot rest with Ansall out there…”
“Or Zaxx,” I added as Nan continued.
“And now my Jodreth says that he is the only Dragon Mage strong enough to do it, despite getting half killed the last time that he tried to fight the Abbot Ansall!” Nan said. “He thinks that the Abbot is up to something, and so he is going to search him out and try to confront him.” The cook of the monastery shook her head. “It’s madness. I forbade him from going, and from breaking my heart – and then he got angry, telling me that he had to.” Nan was still upset, looking at me in despair. “Neill? He always said that you were his closest friend here. Can you speak to him? Stop him from going?”
“I can try? Where is he? When did he say he was leaving?” I asked, quickly drying my arms and hands as Char nodded, saying that she would go and organize some students to start helping the monastery staff as well.
Dragon Mage (The First Dragon Rider Book 3) Page 7
