The Dragon Caller (Brightmoon Book 9)

by Pauline M. Ross

  “Then stay away from them.” He’d reached the far door, but now he turned back and hastily drew the floor-length curtains across the windows. “No point in letting them see us.”

  Ruell didn’t think the dragons would need to see him. They were so close now that they burned in his mind like little suns, and surely they must have a similar connection to him? They’d flown straight to the island, after all. He hadn’t given them enough information to work it out from landmarks. But he said nothing, following miserably behind the others.

  He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from Kestimar – not fear, perhaps, for the man was quite fearless, but perhaps relief? Or even a touch of gratitude. But no, Kestimar was the same as ever.

  “Where thefuckhave you been, woman? I’ve been sitting here waiting for you for hours. You’ve been off screwing like a cat again, haven’t you? Ack, I can smell that nauseating soap on you.Both of you. What are you doing? Fuck it, Garrett, stop it! Leave me alone!”

  Tella raced to close the windows and draw the curtains, as Garrett pushed Kestimar’s chair briskly towards the door.

  “Rescuing you, old man. There are dragons rampaging out there. Well, they may not be rampaging yet, but you never know with dragons. Not leaving you here to be rampaged all over.”

  Kestimar frowned. “Dragons? That racket was Mikah’s dragon alarm, then. Fuck it, this place has gone to pieces lately.”

  Garrett laughed. “True enough. Things were much better in the old days, right? Tell you what, if we can make it to the cellar without becoming dragon food, I’ll get us both an ale and we can reminisce together about our youthful glory days. But let’s get to safety first, all right?”

  A long pause, then Kestimar gave a bark of laughter. “That’s one of the few things I like about you, Garrett – cool in battle. Sense of humour, too.” He chuckled. “Right. Ale and maudlin reminiscences it is, then.”

  They’d reached the sitting room again, and Ruell looked longingly at his dragons’ eggs. But he didn’t dare touch them. Even from across the room, he could feel their churning emotions. Freedom was coming at last! After all these long years, adult dragons had found them, and they would soon be free of their confinement, free to fly and dive and eat and mate. Free tolive! Their excitement was like wine in his blood, exciting him, too. His babies would soon be hatching.

  But the rational part of his mind was still there, terrified but still thinking. He knew perfectly well what was needed to enable the young ones to hatch. And the adults were out there now, wheeling above the roof, circling closer and closer. Too close! Maajhasha was right there, outside the window.

  “Get out!” Ruell yelled.“Run! Now!”

  Garrett was already running, pushing Kestimar’s creaking chair as fast as he could, Tella right behind. Ruell ran too. There was nothing else to be done except run, their lives depending on it. If they could just escape from that room, with the eggs in it, calling to the adults outside. If they could make it to the stairs… They were almost at the door, almost free.

  Too late.

  The window at the far end of the room shattered into a million shards of glass, sparkling in the lamplight as they were tossed through the air, the curtains torn away. And behind it, a great dark shape looming, then poking through the broken window. A long snout covered in wine-coloured scales, and above it a great golden eye, slowly whirling.

  “No, Maajhasha!”Ruell said, although he wasn’t sure whether he spoke aloud or only in his mind.“No! I’m not ready to die. Please don’t—”

  Maajhasha turned that magnificent eye directly on Ruell, and his mind was filled with dragon glee.

  Then the dragon opened his mouth and the room was filled with fire.

  15: Dragon Fire (Garrett)

  Garrett instinctively turned to face the dragon’s fire, throwing up his hands to shield his face. Futile, of course. The flames lapped around him, warm, golden, shimmering like a starry night. There was no sound. He was aware of things bursting into flames all around him, the dancing yellow flames of normal fires. The remains of the curtains, chairs, sofas, the hangings on the walls, Kestimar’s chair – all burning, burning. But he couldn’t hear the crackling flames, and he felt no heat, only a pleasant warmth.

  At his waist, an unearthly glow emanated from his bag – the glass ball, protecting him. He’d never asked it to do that, but he’d soon found out that if he fell or cut himself or someone hit him, the ball would intervene, throwing some kind of a shield around him, so that the fall would be painless, the knife would glide harmlessly over his skin or the blow would leave no mark. He didn’t need to be touching it, but it needed to be close to him. He’d taken to carrying it everywhere he went, except at the training court, where its protective instincts became a hindrance.

  But dragon fire? That was some powerful magic in the ball, to shield him even from that. The dragon’s eye whirled, looking at him. Was it surprised? He hadn’t had much experience reading dragons’ expressions, but it seemed to him that the dragon was startled. The giant snout withdrew, and with a great churning of air, the creature flew upwards, out of sight.

  The room still burned, the rugs and furnishings and wall hangings making a vigorous bonfire, and he still stood in the middle of it. A few paces from him, Ruell glowed as bright as the sun, facing the empty window, his back to Garrett. But where Tella had been, and Kestimar’s chair, now there was nothing.

  “Ruell?” Garrett said, tentatively. His voice sounded tinny and far away. He tried again, louder. “Ruell? Are you… all right?”

  The boy spun round, and his face was lit up with joy. “Yes!” he cried. “Gods, I feel wonderful!” His voice hummed oddly, but Garrett couldn’t tell whether that was just his own deafness or not. “But where’s Mother? Oh…” He turned slowly all the way round, taking in the devastation, his face grief-stricken. He turned back to Garrett. “Butyou’re still here! How did you…? The globe? Thank all the Gods! At least I’m not alone.”

  “No, you’re not alone,” Garrett said, trying to keep his voice steady. “We should go. Get to the cellars…”

  “There’s no point now. They’re all gone.”

  “The dragons?”

  “Yes. They’re flying southwest, back to where they came from.”

  “Still, this room isn’t as comfortable as it was,” Garrett said. “There’ll be a terrible draft from that window. Let’s find the others and see what needs to be done to make the place habitable again.”

  “It will never be habitable,” Ruell said, his voice a little more normal. “Not for us, anyway.”

  “Why ever not?”

  “The dragons have torched everything they could reach, for one thing. I doubt there’s a chair left to sit on anywhere. But also because of that.”

  He pointed to one wall, where flames still lapped. At first, Garrett couldn’t see what he meant, for there were flames everywhere and what was different here? But then he realised… lots of small, glowing objects wreathed in fire. The dragons’ eggs were aflame.

  A crack, and then another and another. One by one, the eggs fell open, and out staggered a tiny dragonet. Blue ones, red ones, black or green or brown – every one different. They didn’t move much at first, chittering happily to each other, stretching out one leg, then another, then spreading their wings.

  Ruell stood transfixed. Perhaps they were calling to him, these dragon babies that he’d been talking to for years. Perhaps they were happy to see him, and would sit in his hand and let him stroke them. Perhaps they would be friendly, and not like dragons at all.

  Garrett wasn’t prepared to risk it. “Ruell, let’s go.”

  “They want me to feed them,” Ruell said. “They’re hungry.”

  “You can’t feed all these. There’s… what, thirty or them?”

  “Thirty-four, including the odd one. Look, it hasn’t hatched yet.”

  “Good,” Garrett said. “We have to get out of here.”

  “There’ll be meat in the kitch
en…”

  “No! Can you imagine how much this lot will eat? And not just today, but in a moon or two when they start getting big? They’ll forage for themselves. There’s plenty of fish in the sea, after all. Ruell, we have to go,now.”

  He grabbed Ruell’s arm and pulled.

  “Wait!” Ruell cried. “Your egg – look!”

  The one remaining unhatched egg still sat amidst its own flames. It didn’t glow like the others had, but the dragon’s fire had done its work and the egg cracked sharply into two neat halves. Inside, curled up into a ball was…

  “It’s not a dragon!” Ruell whispered. “It’s a child! Garrett, you said it was a monster, but it’s not, it’s just a child. Look, it can walk. Come here, little egg person.”

  He held out his arms and the egg child, about the size of a child of two, held out its arms too and began to walk towards Ruell.

  “It’s a monster,” Garrett said firmly, pulling Ruell out of the way.

  With one swift movement, he swept out his sword and cut off the child’s head.

  ~~~~~

  There were a surprising number of people huddled in the main cellar. They sat on the floor, or on upturned boxes, or lay curled up on heaps of sacking. A couple of babies cried, but most of those there, adults and children alike, were silent or spoke only in whispers. The arrival of a whole battery of dragons was too awful for words.

  Garrett stepped around outspread hands and feet, and made his way to the beer barrels, Ruell trailing miserably behind him. It was fortunate that one of the barrels was already tapped ready to go upstairs, or Garrett would have been tempted to broach it with his dagger. There were no decent sized tankards, so he filled one of the tasting cups, downed the contents in one mouthful, then poured again. Ruell leaned against the wall, head lowered, then slumped to the floor, his golden glow and joyfulness gone.

  Eyes watched them, but Mikah was the only one who dared approach them, slapping Garrett heartily on the back. “Glad to see you in one piece, my friend.” His eye slid to Ruell on the floor. “Both of you, naturally. What’s the state of things up there?”

  “The dragons have all gone,” Garrett said, reached for a third cup of beer.

  “Thank the Gods! Then we’re safe!” Again he glanced at Ruell, and quickly back to Garrett.

  “Not exactly,” Garrett said, tossing back another cupful. “The whole palace is burning.”

  “Ah…”

  “And the dragons’ eggs have hatched, so the Queen’s Tower is crawling with the little buggers. And they’re hungry.”

  “Wonderful. And is this your solution to the problem?” Mikah said in icy tones. “To drink the cellar dry?”

  Garrett looked at the array of barrels sitting in great pyramids. “Not a bad idea. Might need some help, though. Want a drink?”

  “This is hardly the time for your frivolity,” Mikah spat.

  “If you look closely, you may notice that I am not in the least amused,” Garrett said, staring back at him. “I am saying farewell to an old friend, if you want to know. Two old friends, in fact. Commander Kestimar is dead in the dragon flames, and Tella with him, and may they be happier with the Gods than ever they were here.”

  Mikah’s face paled. “We… we’ve lost a lot of good people tonight.” Another glance at Ruell, then back to Garrett. “I’m glad you’re not one of them. I suppose we should round up everyone who’s left and make for the boats.” But he sounded uncertain. When he strutted about in his new uniform, full of the confidence that bedding a queen can give a man, it was easy to forget just how young and untried he was. Too young to be dealing with the problems now facing them.

  “The decision is yours, of course, Captain,” Garrett said gently, “but I’d be tempted to wait until the flames die down a bit above ground. It’s still burning pretty fiercely up there.”

  “You managed to get through unscathed,” Mikah said, brows snapping together. “Not a hair on your head has been singed, I see. It can’t be so bad as all that.”

  “I was… lucky,” Garrett said, reluctant to have to explain his magic ball to the incredulous Mikah. “Wait until things settle a bit. By dawn, it might be possible to send a scouting party up there to see how it’s going before trying to get to the boats.”

  “Well, ofcourseI’ll send a scouting party up first. I’m not stupid. Enjoy your ale,Captain Garrett.”

  He stomped away, and Garrett squatted down beside Ruell. “Want a drink?” he said, proffering the cup.

  Ruell shook his head.

  Garrett drank it himself, refilled it and settled on the ground next to Ruell. “Shall I find something for you to lie on? You might be able to snatch a few hours’ sleep.”

  Ruell’s head shot up. “How can I possibly sleep?”

  “You should try, at least,” Garrett said. “First rules of battle – eat when you can, sleep when you can.”

  For the first time, the bleakness on Ruell’s face shifted to something more alert. “Are we in a battle?”

  “Not just now, no, which is why we should sleep. Or eat, except there’s nothing in this cellar but flour and lamp oil and vinegar. At least we’ve got the beer, so we won’t go thirsty. Whereas the poor buggers in the cheese cellar will be heartily sick of cheese before the night is over, and I can only hope no one’s caught in the roots cellar. Can you imagine a fate worse than being trapped with nothing but carrots to eat? It would almost be preferable to face the dragon.”

  That brought a twitch of a lop-sided smile from Ruell. “I like carrots, actually.”

  “Unnatural boy,” Garrett said, with an affectionate laugh.

  “I know what you’re doing,” Ruell said quietly. “You’re trying to make me feel better, aren’t you?”

  “Is it working?”

  “A bit, but… all this was my fault. Mother’s dead, and Kestimar, and the Gods only know how many others, and it’s all my fault.”

  “Rubbish. I don’t rememberyou setting the palace on fire.”

  “But I brought them here.”

  “Maybe you did and maybe you didn’t, but you never told them to bring fire and devastation with them. They did that all by themselves. Dragons are evil-minded creatures at the best of times, or so the old tales have it, so don’t go taking the blame for their wickedness.”

  “I thought I could control them,” he said, and the weight of sorrow in his voice wrung Garrett’s heart.

  “And perhaps one day you will, but I don’t think you should stay here to find out.”

  “No. It’s uninhabitable.”

  “I didn’t mean here on the island, I meant here on the coast. The dragons have some way of knowing where you are and if you’re still nearby, they may come back.”

  “They’ll come back anyway,” Ruell said. “They have to collect the little ones when they’re old enough to fly well.”

  Garrett grunted. That just made it even more imperative to leave. “When they do, we should be far, far away from here.”

  “Mesanthia?”

  “It’s the obvious place – the centre of dragon lore, and it’s certainly far away.”

  “And you’ll come with me?”

  “Well, of course. Where else should I be, except with my son?”

  ~~~~~

  The night passed slowly. After a while, since there was nothing else to eat or drink, people found whatever receptacles they could and filled them from the beer barrels. After that, the mood lifted a little, as they waited out the hours of brightmoon and then darkness. Nothing could be heard from up above, but no one wanted to go and see what was happening. Even if the fire had died down, there were still wild dragons on the loose, not an appealing prospect in the dark.

  Ruell sat on the floor, ankles crossed, his head resting on his knees, sunk in gloom. Once, Garrett had made the mistake of asking him how he was feeling. His head shot up.

  “How do youthink I feel? I just brought a score of dragons here, destroyed everyone’s home, killed my mother and the Gods
alone know how many other people, and set thirty-four hatchlings free. No… not thirty-four. Because one of them wasn’t a dragon, was it? It was a child, Garrett, achild. And I thought you were a good person.”

  Garrett said nothing. What could he say? He’d always promised himself that one day he would tell Ruell the whole story of what he’d done, but somehow it had never been quite the right time. And now it was too late, because Ruell had seen the child within the egg and would never believe it was a monster. Yet it was, a terrible monster. It was better dead, better for everyone.

  So Garrett had kept his silence, watching over Ruell as his lids drooped and he eventually lay down with his head on his arm and slept.

  With the first light of dawn, Garrett left Ruell in the cellar and accompanied Mikah and a band of his best guards up the stairs, past the charred remains of the wooden door and out into what remained of the palace. It was a sorry sight. Everything that could possibly burn had done so, leaving nothing but lumps of blackened wood and ash. Every window was gone, either broken by the dragons or shattered in the heat of the fire. But the stonework and marble floors and pillars seemed barely scorched, the roof was intact, and the ash was already cool, and beginning to drift around in the breeze.

  “This could be restored,” Mikah said, looking around in surprise. “It isn’t as bad as I’d feared.”

  “I’d wait until the guests have left if I were you,” Garrett said. “Look.” He pointed up to a window in the Queen’s Tower, where a couple of dragonets sunned themselves on the sill of a broken window. “The adults will be back for them, in time.”

  “How do you know that?” Mikah’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  “Because Ruell told me so,” Garrett snapped. “Honestly, Mikah, we haven’t time to quibble over everything. Let’s check the other cellars, and then get everyone to the boats before thosethings up there decide we’d make a tasty meal.”

  “Can they fly yet?”

  “Probably not, since they only hatched a few hours ago, but they’re quick learners and they fly mostly at night, so I suggest we get the fuck out of here while the sun’s up.”