Pseudo-Dragon (The Blue Dragon's Geas Book 4)

by Matthynssens, Cheryl

  The dragon suddenly hesitated in his swimming then began a strange spiraling pattern down. He stopped at a bed of dark rock and drew in a mouthful of water. He blew it out of his mouth with a great deal of pressure to reveal a section of rock, most of which looked like steel. The dragon turned and hit the bed with his tail several times. Alador watched in fascination; wondering what gift such rock could possibly yield. When several pieces had been knocked loose, Renamaum turned and took them into his mouth. To Alador’s astonishment, he ate them. They tasted horrible and even hurt a bit to crunch down upon as the dragon ground them against large flat back teeth.

  Alador attempted to touch his jaw and realized that he had no sense of personal movement. “What are you doing?” The thought that somehow his body would return and be full of rock was not lost on him.

  “Fire rock. Need it to stay warm.” The matter-of-fact answer did not make sense to Alador, and apparently Renamaum felt that this was the only explanation needed.

  The dragon continued twisting and gliding through spires of crusted rock until he came to a shipwreck. Alador realized that he could see the shadows of these things and not really the details. Everything was outlined in degrees of darkness and he wondered how the dragon could see at all with the storm raging above. Some of the fish fleeing from their path seemed to glow with a light of their own.

  Alador realized the dragon had paused and refocused his attention on what Renamaum was up to now. The dragon nosed around the bottom of the ship and eventually used his large claws to rip open a large hole in the side. From there, he pulled the chest out onto a rock and leaned on it till it cracked beneath his weight. As Renamaum searched through the contents, Alador realized that he could smell the metals and stones. He was not sure smell was exactly the right word, but it was the closest sense he could attribute to the sensations that he could feel coursing through him. He watched as Renamaum finally chose a strange goblet set with dark stones. Clutching it in his talons, the dragon turned and headed back the way that they had come.

  As they headed back, Alador began to feel a strange comforting heat that radiated from the center of his being. He realized that whatever it was that Renamaum had eaten; it was indeed giving him much needed warmth against the cold confines of the water pressed around them.

  “Can I ask you questions until we get to your cave?” Alador shifted, or felt as if he shifted, closer to the mind of Renamaum.

  “Only if you promise to be quiet or sleep while I am with my mate.” Renanaum’s firm tone left no room for argument. Alador could feel the longing for his mate as the dragon answered him.

  It was difficult to not let those feelings become his own. “Do all dragons eat fire rock?” Alador mentally shuddered at the remaining taste in his mouth.

  “No, it depends on the breath weapon of the dragon. For those of fire and water, it is what powers our breath weapons and gives us heat when cold waters or weather is upon us. It also produces an air that lightens our body so that flight is easier to maintain.” Renamaum was now swimming in a single direction with purpose. “It fills a second sack much as air fills your chest.”

  “Is the fire rock … when we change back … is it going to be in me?” Alador really hoped that whatever Renamaum did in his dragon form would not damage him in his own.

  “I do not know.” Renamaum admitted. “When it is time, I will expel the rock as a cautious measure.” The dragon broke the surface of the water to expel his breath and took in a couple more before diving beneath again. The storm still raged on the surface.

  Alador considered this carefully before asking his next question. “Is that why the fledglings held in the mines don’t fly? They do not have access to the fire rock.” He felt struck as a powerful wave of anger rose up in the dragon.

  “It is part of the reason, combined with the confinement and intentional damage to their wings.” Renamaum’s anger turned to deep sadness.

  A memory surfaced of young dragons with their fragile wings slit beyond repair. He too felt the loss of such freedom. It would not be much more different from a man having the back of his ankles slit as a child. He decided to deflect the dragon from this line of thought as he realized something a little more concerning.

  Alador felt a sense of relief at that answer. It was hard to focus his thoughts when he had the onslaught of senses that he was not used to experiencing. “Will it hurt when I absorb your final essence?”

  Renamaum slowed slightly as he moved through the water. “I do not know. I have never seen or heard of any beings in our situation.”

  The admission took Alador aback slightly. “Hasn’t there been other pseudo-dragons?”

  Renamaum had come to a cliff face and began swimming down in a spiraling pattern. “There are stories, but none with a geas. Pseudo-dragons from a Daezun or Lerdenians … I do believe you are the first.”

  “The first?” Alador was alarmed at this. It meant no one could tell him what was to come. “Can you tell me what a Pseudo-Dragon really is?”

  Renamaum paused, and Alador had a sense of him searching his own vast memories. “A pseudo-dragon has all of the magic of a dragon, all the ancient memories once he learns to embrace them. He just does not have the body of a dragon. It is all that seperates him from an actual dragon.”

  “I will BE a dragon then?” Alador was stunned. He had been given hints but nothing this blatant.

  “As close as you can be, yes.” Renamaum confirmed. A dark opening slowly revealed itself in the cliff face. It was large; Renamaum entered it with confidence. “No more questions, we are here, he said. Sleep now.”

  The command seemed to echo around Alador, wrapping him in a strange sense of separation from the presence of Renamaum. It felt like a thick, clear wall had been put up between them. He could still feel his senses: sight, smell and touch were clearly present, but it was as if he were deaf to the dragon’s thoughts now. Alador attempted to balance himself and settle into the role of a simple observer.

  Renamaum’s head broke the surface of the water and quickly looked around. He spotted Pruatra who was resting on a bed of treasure and seaweed. As the female dragon bristled up and hissed in warning at the sudden intrusion into her lair, Renamaum moved in the water to where she would have a better view of his true form. “Pruatra, it is I, Renamaum. Settle and do not be alarmed.”

  Every spike and fin on the female dragon was tensed up. Even her face fins were fully forward as she shifted her body; the moment formidable as she moved between the male and her bed of treasure. “How is that possible?” Her eyes were quickly raking back and forth over the form of Renamaum.

  “The boy cast a spell to give us a space of time.” Renamaum moved out of the water and held out the goblet with a forepaw. “I do hope this small token will make up for the fright I might have given you.” His guttural tones held an edge of appeasement.

  Pruatra sniffed the air as Renamaum moved out of the water, the fins on her face still tensed out. “Why would he do that?” She demanded with suspicion.

  “To let us have a proper farewell before I am lost within him forever.” Renamaum did not move, goblet still held outstretched.

  Pruatra moved closer and sniffed him. “You smell like mortals and magic.” She grumbled. She took the goblet from him and sat back on her hind legs to inspect it, holding it close to one of the lightstones that illuminated the cave with a gentle moonlike glow. “Well at least you did not come without a gift,” she conceded. She turned and nestled it with great care into the pile.

  Renamaum chuckled as he moved forward next to her. Leave it to Pruatra to find complaint rather than joy at his appearance. When she was done placing the goblet, he nuzzled her neck softly. “I have missed you.”

  The only sign she was relaxing was the laying down of her facial fins. She did not look at him or turn to meet his attempt at affection. “Do not think you can be off dead and leave me to raise our fledglings; then just show up as if nothing were amiss.” Her tone held hurt and g
rief.

  “Yes, well dying did not leave me much opportunity to prepare you.” He chucked her chin with his snout to show his displeasure at her lack of joy at his return. “There is a great deal amiss, Pruatra. I am very aware.” He nuzzled her again, nibbling at her neck gently before speaking again. “Would you have preferred I did not take the boy’s gift?”

  The dragoness sighed out heavily. “No.” She turned and laid her forehead against his muzzle. “But you are here, so now you must stay,” she whispered.

  “I cannot do that. We have but a few hours.” Renamaum answered just as softly.

  “You can cast the spell of staying. My mate, you can keep your form and make the boy ride along as you have been doing,” she begged. Her head turned so her gaze could fully meet his. “You could be a true father to our young.”

  “I would have only a mortal lifetime if I did that. A fleeting moment to you and our young.” Renamaum pulled his head back. “The geas would go unfinished for I cannot complete it, the boy must do it. Would you really have me be so selfish, mate of my heart?” His eyes dropped with the pain he felt at denying her request.

  “Yes!” Pruatra snarled. “Look what your great ideals have wrought? You are dead. The flights no longer gather in council.” She did not pause despite the look of shock that he flashed her. “You were killed by the very mortals you seek to change.” Her last words were snarled out. “They will never change.”

  “Pruatra…” Renamaum began to explain. He had to help her understand the larger picture here.

  “Don’t you start,” she hissed, her mouth snapping closed with an audible click. “You left me alone.” A strange choking growl rumbled in her as she fought to speak her mind. “You left me alone as you sought to change the world. Mortals are selfish. They think only of their brief existence. They do not care that they are destroying the world they seek to rule.” She drew a breath and snapped her great teeth at him when he started to speak. “They do not care they are destroying the very magic they seek so desperately to possess.” Her anger and grief came out in a torrent of words. “I taught your mortal and now he will turn that magic on the very people you are seeking to pr-protect.” Her voice broke and her sides heaved with the choked growl.

  “Pruatra…” Renamaum began again and when she did not lash out this time, he continued. “There is so much more to this than what you know. When Alador returned to the sparkling mountain of magic, the goddess, Dethara, was there. She is meddling somehow in this world. It may be her spawn that have been telling the dragon hunters were to find eggs. This is bigger than you… me… our fledglings. This is about every dragon on this world. It is about changing magic from the wondrous power we know to something dark and cold.” He nuzzled the angry dragoness. “I do these things so that our fledglings and theirs have a world to thrive in. It is not for me…” He trailed off, his head drooping with the weight of what he knew.

  Their necks entangled as the dragoness' large sides heaved with emotion. She finally spoke, breaking the heavy silence. “I just… I miss you,” she moaned. She moved her head to place her snout flat to his so that their foreheads rested together.

  The only sound for a time was the heaving sounds of the dragoness. Finally, Renamaum picked up his head and nuzzled her snout gently. “My time is short, Pruatra. I do not wish to spend what I have fighting with you. Come fly with me one last time,” he whispered as he pulled his head back to look at her. His gaze swept over the beautiful lines of his mate. The deep blue scales lined with edges so light they gleamed like silver. She was as perfect as the memories he held of her. He forced his eyes up to hers, lost in their silver depths. “Then we will find our fledglings and I will share with them what I can in the time I have,” he murmured, having almost forgotten to finish his thought.

  Pruatra sighed out a long wrenching breath then slowly nodded. “Let us dance in the wind.” She turned and waded into the water, diving beneath the surface.

  Renamaum smiled and murmured, “That’s the mate I remember.” He followed her into the water and out of the cave.

  They both swam a short way and Renamaum watched as Pruatra surfaced and climbed onto a large flat rock, assaulted by waves and wind in the storm. She shook out her great wings then with a powerful thrust, took off into the sky.

  Renamaum also climbed out on the great rock to shake out his wings. He took a deep breath, and it melded with the warmth in his center, filling his flight sac. When he thrust up, his wings caught the wind flinging him backwards for a moment before his strength forced a turn. He looked about for Pruatra and spotted her tail above him. Grinning, he gave chase remembering the first time when she had sought to elude him.

  The two great dragons spiraled up despite the driving rain and wind. They arced in and out of the way of lightning. A timeless dance that would have seemed choreographed to the casual observer. At last they broke through the clouds and there above them, the stars shimmered in the cool, brisk air. Pruatra turned to spiral around him. He reveled in her grace in the sky as she dipped and turned. She flicked her tail in his face each time she swooped passed him.

  Renamaum roared in challenge, his voice deep and thrumming. Pruatra answered by merely flicking her tail at him and dancing out of his reach. They both soared higher and higher until the air began to be so cold that they felt it in their wings. When they came together, they grasped talons as Renamaum swiftly wrapped his wings about his mate. For a brief moment, the world stood still for the two great beasts. Love surged between them as they came together. The two great raptors began to cartwheel, spiraling down to the sea of clouds beneath them. The twisting mass of wing and claw gyrated in a mating ritual that was as old as the dragons themselves. They plunged back into the clouds to be assaulted again by winds and rain, oblivious to the lightning that arced across the sky. When it seemed certain that the two would plunge as a writhing ball into the water, they separated. Wings snapped open and the dancing climb of the long separated lovers began again.

  Chapter Eight

  The two dragons danced in the sky until the day began to ebb. Renamaum was determined to leave Pruatra with one more clutch before he had to leave her. It would, gods willing, be some time before she would join him in the afterlife. He was surprised when Pruatra led him north away from her own deep cavern.

  “They are old enough to have found their own caves?” He was genuinely surprised. His time in a state of limbo had no depth or recognition of how much time had actually transpired.

  “You have been in the land of the dead for some time.” She beat her wings a couple of times to gain the wind before she answered him further. A strange sense of wistfulness emanated from her. “They both have flown to the pool of the gods, and both have had their first mating. Though they danced on the wind, neither has found a heart mate.” Pruatra looked over at Renamaum. “The dragons are dwindling. More and more move to the mainland and remote islands.” She heaved a great sigh. “Magic does not flow as it once did. You can no longer find it on the wind. Successful matings are also less, and the eggs are fewer. Many lay just one if they are lucky."

  Renamaum nodded. He had foreseen this dwindling of magic and dragon when he had first approached the council of flight leaders. He knew that as more and more mortals stole the magic of the dragons; it would continue to contribute to the decline. Why was it that mortals could not see that if they saw to the end of dragons, then there would be no new magic? Eventually, all magic would fade from the world. Renamaum could not imagine a world without the wonder of magic. It seemed as if it would bring hardship, disillusionment, and even more fighting amongst the mortals. Why was it that mortals had to have something to measure each other against? Why could they not find the wonder in their own individuality?

  Renamaum’s thoughts shifted to solutions. The great dragon had been saddened to learn that the council did not meet any longer. He would have to try to speak to Keensight about that. He was not sure he would have time, but if nothing else, he could send
the boy with a message. Keensight had been a vocal member of that council; why had he fallen silent? Had the red dragon’s anger been so great the day that they had parted for the last time that he had never returned to council?

  He watched as two dragons slowly flapped their way towards them. It was clear that they were in many ways still fledglings judging by the way the larger kept dancing in and upsetting the flight path of the smaller. He would have to speak with his son about such things. Renamaum followed his mate as she spiraled down to a clearing below them. He landed so lightly beside Pruatra that it made no sound. He nuzzled her once more before their fledglings joined them.

  Renamaum drew himself up as they both landed before their mother and dipped their heads with proper respect. The large male smiled, remembering their names from their time teaching the boy.

  Amaum raised his head proudly, face fins and spines rigid. “Have you taken a new mate, mother?” Much to Renamaum’s amusement, Amaum puffed his chest as he surveyed the older dragon carefully.

  Renamaum chuckled at the display as Pruatra answered her son. “No, this is your father. He managed to obtain his form for a short time.” She stepped back a bit as the two young dragons eyed the male before them, and he assessed them right back.

  “My time is short so there are things that I must pass on to you.” Renamaum drew himself up as fatherly as he could, remembering his own sire’s regal manner. He hesitated for a moment, realizing that he had no idea how to be a proper father. He had not gotten the chance to adjust as most males. In his mind, they had gone from eggs to fully grown. He shook his head as he realized the boy’s automatic hesitation had filtered to him somewhat.

  “How do I know you are really my father?” Amaum challenged with a growl.

  Pruatra moved to put her son in his place, but Renamaum’s tail slipped in front of her. “You do not. You do, however, disrespect your mother with your doubts and therefore cast shame upon her.” This time, Renamaum drew on his full size taking a step forward. He showed his son exactly how large he had been in life. “I would think a son of mine had more honor than that.” Renamaum took another step forward. Rena wisely sidled away, but Amaum held his ground. His eyes meeting the larger dragon in challenge.