by Stephen Deas
'He's dead,' said Sollos. He looked at Kemir. 'You told them what we saw?'
'I told them they owe us a bag of gold.'
Semian sneered. 'All we've seen is the aftermath of a fire. For all I know you're lying and the white was never here.'
'If you'd been a bit quicker,' snapped Sollos, 'this man might have told you the same story.'
Kemir pointed up through the trees. 'If your dragon-riders up there didn't see it, they need new eyes.'
'Urn… how long has this man been dead?' asked the alchemist.
'Our dragon-riders are elsewhere, as I'm sure you noticed. And as for this man, perhaps I should look him over for wounds, in case you slid a knife into him to make sure he couldn't contradict you.' Rider Semian cocked his head.
'So there's no one watching to see what happens to you?' Kemir looked ready to hit him. The alchemist was kneeling down beside the burned man now.
'Tread very carefully, sell-sword. Before you raise your hand against me, I would remind you that there are six of us and only two of you.'
Kemir gave him a nasty look. 'I wouldn't dream of sullying my sword with you, Rider. Why would I, when all I need to do is nothing at all?'
The alchemist picked up the dead man's hand by the wrist and held it to his cheek.
'You're a long way from your eyrie here, rider. All I need to do is watch and laugh from a distance while you-'
Sollos tugged sharply on Kemir's arm. 'Enough. Leave them.'
Kemir snorted. 'I'd like nothing better.'
'I require an, um, assistant,' said the alchemist. He was squatting by the dead man now, and was pulling things out of his pack.
'You would, would you?' sneered Rider Semian. 'Then let us part ways. You clearly have nothing to contribute after all. We will simply return to our search from the air. It'll be us watching you.'
'Your, um, help, sell-sword.'
The alchemist was offering Sollos a short curved knife, the sort he might have used for paring fruit. Sollos took it. 'What do you want?'
The alchemist tore open a square of waxed paper. Inside was some black powder, which he sprinkled into small clay cup. He held it out to Sollos. 'Knife.'
Sollos took the cup and gave him the knife. With a grimace the alchemist drew the edge along the flesh of his arm.
'Hold the cup so that it catches the blood.' The alchemist clenched his fist. Blood ran down his arm to his elbow. When it dripped into the cup, the powder hissed.
'What is this?' Sollos frowned.
'None of, um, your concern, sell-sword, that's what.'
'Looks like witchcraft to me,' muttered Kemir. He took a step away. Even the dragon-knights had fallen silent.
'He's dead,' said Sollos. 'Potions can't help him. If you'd come sooner…'
The alchemist glared at him. 'Where did you get your name, sell-sword? Sollos. It's an, er, alchemist's name, not a soldier's. Clearly a, ah, mistake. Or did you choose it yourself?' Inside the cup the powder and the blood had mixed into a paste. The alchemist lifted his arm and wrapped a strip of white linen tightly around his wound. 'Um. You're right that it's too late to help him live. But not too late to help him talk.'
'Master Huros?' Semian sounded edgy. 'I am not easy with this. Blood magic is-'
'Is what?'
'The queen does not favour such practices. They are outlawed.'
'In, er, her realm perhaps. Not here.' The alchemist gave a little sigh. 'If I smear this on his tongue, he will speak. Um… if my means don't please you, rider, I am sorry.' He tugged the cup from Sollos's fingers. 'Take this and burn it, if you prefer.'
Semian fidgeted. After a few seconds, when he didn't take the cup, the alchemist shrugged. He dipped his finger into the paste and, before anyone could stop him, smeared it in the dead man's mouth.
25
Awakening
Day by day, Kailin watched Snow change. Dragons, he'd been told, were like little children. If that was so then Snow was growing up fast right in front of him. She was frightening, and yet he felt a strange pride and a sense of wonder watching her. There had never been a dragon like her, not with her purity of colour. She was sleek and perfect, and now she was becoming something else as well. Often she terrified him, but at the same time he was her Scales. He'd been waiting for her since she first started tapping her way out of her egg and into the world, and he'd been with her for nearly ten years now. Slowly he understood. Their roles had changed. He'd cared for her, nurtured her, fed her, and now she was doing the same for him.
They developed a routine. Each morning as the sun rose over the mountains, Snow uncurled and launched herself into the air. Kailin watched her go, peering into the sky long after she'd vanished. Then he sat by his fire, drank some warm water and ate some leftover meat. After that there really wasn't much to do but wait for Snow and wonder if today was the day when she wouldn't come back. Usually he made his way across the mountain, through the snows, to the nearest stand of trees and collected some more wood. When the wind blew, cold enough to flay the skin off his flesh, he huddled up in the lee of some nearby rocks and simply waited. When Snow came back, she always knew where to find him. She would be almost too hot to touch, and her warmth melted the snows, dried his clothes and the firewood, and slopped him from freezing in the night. Each day she brought him food to eat, the headless remains of some animal she'd caught. He'd cook it over his fire, and she'd watch him. When he was done, she'd swallow what was left in a single gulp. He knew perfectly well that without her he'd quickly starve or freeze to death.
He talked to her when she was there. Not expecting any answer, but simply because the mountain was so cold and lonely and he felt better hearing the sound of his own voice. Sometimes, from the way she looked at him, he wondered if she was listening.
He got his answer to that when he trod on a loose stone. The first thing he knew, one of his feet was sliding out from under him. The world tumbled, hit him on the head and wound up lying on its side, dim and blurry.
Hurt? asked a voice inside his head.
He tried to move, but for a moment that didn't work. Yes, he decided. I am hurt.
The next thing he knew, Snow was standing over him, the tip of her face inches from his own, blotting out the sky, the scorching-hot wind of her breath almost pinning him to the ground. He put up a hand, flinched away, and she retreated.
Is it hurt? asked the voice again.
He groaned and sat up. His head was starting to throb. When he touched it, his fingers came away with blood on them. Slowly, he looked up at Snow.
'Did you speak?' He laughed and then winced. Dragons Couldn't speak except in myth.
Its head is broken. Is it going to-
Am I going to what? The thought formed inside his head, but the last part of it didn't make any sense. Something to do with getting hotter and hotter and fading away and then waking up wrapped up tight inside an egg.
Snow peered at him and cocked her head. Die?
To Kailin, it seemed as though a giant hand had slapped him in the lace. He went numb. The pain in his head washed away. He stood up and staggered away from Snow. 'You… you… I heard you thinking.'
Snow snorted and shook her head, the way she did when she was excited. It hears! Understands!
Kailin was trembling. 'You understand me! You understand Kailin!'
Kailin? He got a sense of incomprehension.
'That's my name.'
Name? What is a name?
Kailin didn't know how to answer that, but Snow didn't seem to mind. She seemed to pluck the answer out of his head.
All Little Ones have names. Do I have a name?
'Snow.'
Snow. Why?
Kailin picked up a handful of snow. 'Because you're white.' He held it up to show her and then pressed it against the wound on his head.
Hurt? He could feel the tension in her thought.
'A little bit.'
They tried to talk, on into the night until the sun was long gone and sta
rs filled the sky. Most of the time Kailin couldn't make sense of the images that flashed in his head, nor did Snow seem to understand him, no matter how ferociously he thought. He would feel her frustration build up inside her, and then something would burst and their thoughts would somehow align. It would last for a few seconds, maybe a little more before they drifted apart. Eventually he fell asleep, drained. The last thing he felt from Snow was how awake she was, how filled with wonder and awe.
For days afterwards the thoughts that appeared in his head were strange and alien. They rarely made sense, and he would have to ask again and again what Snow was trying to tell him. As time went by, though, they grew sharper, brighter, clearer. He talked to Snow whenever she was there, and she responded. Every day she was changed, filled with new discoveries. Clearer, more articulate, more intelligent than she'd been the day before. A voracious sense of amazement and adventure infected her every thought, and his as well. No Scales had ever experienced what he was seeing, this blossoming.
It is like a veil is lifted in my mind each night, she told him one day as she left to hunt. He spent the rest of the day wondering what use a dragon would have for a veil, until he understood: she wasn't hearing his words any more, she was seeing into his mind. And when she answered him, she was looking inside him for things that he would understand.
'We have to go home,' he told her when she came back from her hunt with fresh blood still on her claws. 'I have to show you to the others.'
I am different. Why?
'I don't know, Snow. It's a miracle.'
Miracle? He felt her confusion. No. Little One Kailin, I feel as if I have awoken from a sleep that has lasted a hundred lifetimes. I do not understand how I have awoken, nor do I understand how I fell into such a slumber. Nor even how much more is to come.
'We'll go back home. We can ask Master Huros or one of the other alchemists, or even Eyrie-Master Isentine-'
NO! She snapped her jaws. Kailin scrabbled away from her in sudden terror, before she bowed her head to the ground, a dragon gesture of submission. I did not mean to frighten you, Little One Kailin. I will not hurt you, but nor will I go bac to that place.
'Why?' Kailin watched warily.
My brothers and sisters there are awake yet asleep. I could not bear to be that way again.
But all dragons are like that. Except you. You're the miracle.'
No, Little One Kailin. I do not think so. I think we were all this way, a long time ago. I have dreams. Memories of other lives I've lived. Many, many lives, but all of them long ago. I remember when my kjnd flew in our hundreds. I remember the silver gods and the breaking of the very earth itself then a hundred lives of bright thoughts and flying free. And then, Little One Kailin, something changed, and everything since has faded into an eternal dull blur, dim and impenetrable. Out of reach. All my kin are still sleepwalking their lives. Somehow, you have awoken me. How, Little One Kailin? How did you awaken me? I will not return to my kind until I have that answer. Until I can bring that knowledge back to them.
'I don't know.'
I know. Your thoughts speak far themselves. There are Little Ones who know far more, who may have the answers. You know of them. You wish to take me before them.
'You would be the wonder of the realms.'
I am not so sure, Little One Kailin. Would you like to see the memories I have of your kind from my lives long ago?
'Of course.'
Visions burst into his head. He saw armies of men, hundreds of thousands, more than anything he could have imagined. He saw himself land among them, lashing with his tail, scattering them like leaves, scores of them, smashing them to pulp in their little metal shells. He felt the fire build in his throat and burst forth. The air grew heavy with the stench of scorched flesh. And he felt the appetite growing inside him. For more, more, more…
He screamed. The vision abruptly vanished.
Do you understand? In my dream your kind were never anything more than prey, and your thoughts were always filled with hopeless terror. Why would you wish to return to such a world?
'No, no, no!' Kailin shook his head. 'Dragons and men have lived together for hundreds of years. We helped you. You were dying. We looked after you. We've always looked after you. No.' He shook his head again. 'Go back to the eyrie, Snow. Our queen is good and wise. She'll know what to do.'
The dragon cocked her head. You have seen what we were, and yet you are more afraid of this queen? Curious. I can see that you truly believe everything you say. Perhaps… Snow lifted her head off the ground. She rose onto her back legs and flapped her wings a few times. A sign of warning.
No, she said at last. I will not go back to the place you call the eyrie, Little One Kailin. Not yet.
26
The Burned Man
The dead man's lips began to move. He gave a soft sigh. The dragon-knights shifted away, shuffling uncomfortably. Sollos heard them muttering under their breath.
'He's all, um, yours,' said the alchemist. 'I don't know, um, how long he'll last. He hasn't been dead for long, so you've probably got at least, um, half an hour.'
Rider Semian was looking at the dead man with a mixture of horror and disgust. 'Ask him what happened here.'
'You can ask him yourself, if you wish, rider.'
Semian's lips curled in distaste. 'No, Master Huros. You made this abomination. It's yours now. The sell-swords will guard you. We will return to the river.'
The alchemist shrugged and turned his attention to the dead man.
'He kept on about the dragon speaking to him,' said Sollos, when the knights had gone. 'It was the white. He said there wasn't a rider. And something about someone called Maryk. I don't know what that was.'
'Leave me with him, Sword-Master Sollos. This isn't for your ears.'
Sollos snorted. 'You heard Rider Semian. We're to watch over you.'
'Thank you, but that's not necessary.'
'Master Huros, there probably aren't any snappers or wolves lurking around after a dragon's been here, but you never know. I don't overly mind if you get yourself eaten, but I'm quite sure that Rider Semian would delight in holding us to account for it.'
The alchemist shrugged. 'Stay if you must.' He settled himself and turned to the dead man. 'Um. What's your name, corpse?'
'Biyr,' said the dead man. Sollos shivered. The dead man spoke perfectly normally. He sounded much better than when he'd actually been alive and racked with the agony of his burns.
'Well, Biyr, what happened here?'
'A dragon came out of nowhere. We had no warning. It burned us. I was walking away from our tree shelters when the fire came.'
'Did you see the dragon?'
'Yes.'
'And, er, what colour was it?'
'White.'
The alchemist nodded, pleased. 'Did you see who was riding it?'
'No one was riding it.'
Huros frowned and shook his head. 'Ah. There must have been a, um, rider. Perhaps you missed it? Um… When did you see the dragon? When it was in the air? Did it land?'
'It came down in the river after it burned us. I saw it then, between the trees.'
'Did you see it in the air?'
'No.'
The alchemist nodded. 'There, you see. Um… whoever was riding her had probably already dismounted. Besides, it's not a good view from here through the trees to the river. I'm sure you could see something the size of a, ah, dragon clearly enough, but it would be very easy to miss a man.'
'I didn't see anyone get on its back before it went,' said Sollos quietly.
'That's because it didn't have a harness on,' grumbled Kemir. 'I kept telling-'
'It spoke,' murmured the dead man.
Huros shook his head. 'Dragons don't speak.'
'It spoke in my head. I heard it. It came for Maryk.'
'Um, no. You must be mistaken. That cannot be. Dragons do not speak.'
The alchemist's knuckles had gone very white.
Sollos asked, 'Who's
Maryk?'
'One of us,' said the dead man. 'The dragon came after him.'
'How do you know?'
'That's what it said. It had come for Maryk. I heard its voice inside me, full of hate and fury.'
The alchemist shifted uncomfortably and frowned.
'Was this Maryk here?' asked Kemir.
'Yes. He was in the shelters,' said the dead man.
The alchemist raised a hand. 'Enough. Um… sell-sword, go and bring Rider Semian to me.'
'So he's probably dead then.' Sollos made a face. 'Pity.'
'You should leave now,' said the alchemist.
Kemir grunted. 'I want to know about this Maryk. Where did he come from? Why did the dragon want him?'
'I want you to, um, leave us now, sell-sword. Bring Rider Semian. Um, right now.' The alchemist was chewing his lip in agitation.
'Do dead men lie?'
The alchemist turned and looked at Kemir. For a timid man, there was something very fierce in his eyes. And frightened too. 'About as much as living ones do, sell-sword. I said go!'
Kemir rolled his eyes. 'I'm only asking. Maybe when Rider Rod comes back, you could ask Crispy here whether we stabbed him. Just to make sure, you know.'
'There are no, er, wounds,' said Huros, between gritted teeth. 'It is patently obvious that you did not kill him. Now go!'
Sollos turned and left, pulling Kemir away with him.
Kemir chuckled to himself.
'Well he didn't seem very happy.'
'Do you have to annoy them so much?'
'Do I annoy them?'
'Does the sun rise in the morning? One day, one of those dragon-knights is going to lose his temper with you.'
'Let him. I'll put an arrow through him before he can remember which side he buckled his sword.'
'Yes. And what will you do about the other five?'
'Run like buggery, I expect.' Kemir laughed again and slapped Sollos on the back.
'I'm not finding this funny.' Sollos wrinkled his nose and loosened his shoulders. 'Something isn't right about this.'
'You keep saying that. As far as I'm concerned, what's not right is that we're helping dragon-knights.'
