Aurora

by Mark Robson

  Fang dropped his camouflage long enough for Kira and Jack to climb onto his back and then disappeared from beneath them as if he had never been there at all. Elian could not help but stare at the impossible sight of Kira floating through the air between the trees with Jack immediately behind her.

  ‘And good luck,’ he muttered under his breath.

  ‘How should I hold on?’ Jack asked as they reached the edge of the trees.

  ‘You can hold onto my waist,’ Kira told him. ‘But if we don’t find the man this morning, then I’d like to get some handles stitched to the back of my saddle for you this afternoon. Bring something soft to sit on, too – a blanket, or something. Riding a dragon is uncomfortable to begin with. Unless we get lucky this morning, you’re going to be sore by this afternoon.’

  ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’

  ‘Ready? Here we go.’

  From a standing start by the edge of the trees, Fang accelerated to flying speed within a dozen paces, the first downstroke of his wings skipping them briefly from the ground and his second carrying them into the air. Kira heard the gasp from behind her and grinned. Jack’s grip tightened around her waist during the acceleration, but it was not long before the pressure from his hands loosened again. She could not imagine many people adapting to the experience of flying on an invisible ride so quickly.

  ‘Which way?’ she asked over her shoulder.

  ‘Turn right until the sun is at our back-right quarter,’ he replied. ‘Then keep going until we reach the river.’

  Fang turned and they climbed to a comfortable height, heading north. The distant ribbon of muddy water soon became apparent and the hunt began. It was not long before they spotted their first formation of aircraft, but as they got closer they identified it as a friendly patrol.

  For the next three hours Fang flew up and down the battle lines, crossing back and forth between friendly and enemy territory. In some places the lines became blurred. Jack pointed out some of the towns as they went, explaining which ones had fallen to the enemy in recent days. They could see fierce fighting on the ground, but in the sky the activity was not so frantic. They did see some enemy aircraft and flew close enough to determine that none of the machines were the distinctive red of the one they were looking for.

  About an hour before midday they witnessed a clash between formations of Allied and German aircraft. Kira sensed Jack tensing behind her, as they watched the wheeling fight break out.

  ‘He is itching to join the fray,’ Fang told her.

  ‘He can itch all he likes,’ she replied. ‘We’re not going to scratch it for him unless The Red Baron is there. Are any of the machines painted red?’

  Fang turned his head to fully scan the fight with his good eye. ‘No,’ he informed her. ‘Some of the aircraft have a red band around the front, but those have the friendly markings on their wings.’

  Shortly after midday they headed back to the wood. Aurora was asleep, her long body curved around several trees. Elian pushed himself up from where he had been waiting anxiously next to the fire. Kira was impressed to see that he had fashioned himself a pair of crutches.

  ‘Elian mentioned his wound the other day. Is it bad?’ Jack asked her discreetly, as they dismounted.

  ‘He had a piece of metal from one of your flash bang weapons deep in his thigh,’ she explained. ‘It has been cut out, but he’s overusing his leg and it’s swelling again.’

  ‘Shrapnel wounds are often nasty,’ Jack commented softly. ‘I noticed him limp a bit last night, but had no idea he was suffering. We’ve got medics nearby who can look at it for him.’

  ‘With rest his wound will heal fine,’ she assured him. ‘He insisted on coming to find you last night when he should have let me do it. He can be stubborn like that.’

  ‘Good lad!’ Jack breathed approvingly. ‘The best sort.’

  ‘How did you get on?’ Elian asked. ‘Any sign?’

  Kira shook her head and stretched her back. She was stiff. It had been over a week since she had flown for that long. She looked at Jack to see how he had fared, and it was all that she could do to keep from laughing. He was standing awkwardly, wearing a pained expression on his face.

  ‘Would you like us to cook you something before we go again, Jack?’ she asked. ‘Or would you prefer to walk the kinks out of your legs and get food from your own people?’

  Jack grimaced. ‘I think I need the walk,’ he admitted. ‘But why don’t you join me?’

  ‘Oh, no thanks,’ she said quickly. ‘I’ll be fine here with Elian.’

  ‘Kira explained about your injury, Elian.’ Jack touched Elian’s shoulder gently and looked him in the eyes. ‘There’s no need to walk far, old boy. I’ll have someone bring a vehicle across the field and pick you up from the edge of the wood. Why not come and let someone else cook up some grub for you? And I’m sure we can find you something more comfortable than the ground to sleep on tonight.’

  ‘If you go, I’ll come with you,’ Kira said. ‘You need to eat and rest your leg properly. Aurora will be fine here. There’re guards all around the wood. Jack says no one can come in without Squadron Leader White’s approval. Aurora will be fine and you should still be able to talk to her from there.’

  Elian looked first at Kira and then at Jack. He was not happy at being cornered, but his resistance crumbled as he thought of all the fascinating things he had seen in the building where he had met Jack and his Commanding Officer.

  ‘All right,’ he agreed reluctantly. ‘But let’s not get too comfortable. I don’t want to drag this out a moment longer than necessary.’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Gathering Forces

  ‘Are you sure this is the right place, Shadow? Where are the guard dragons?’ Pell asked scanning the volcano for the telltale blue of a day dragon. ‘I don’t see them.’

  ‘Neither do I,’ she replied, her voice sounding uncharacteristically nervous. ‘I have searched the entire area with my mind and my eyes, but it looks like there are none.’

  ‘What? None! Are you sure?’

  ‘As sure as I can be,’ Shadow confirmed. ‘It appears the day dragon enclave is not concerned enough to mount a guard.’

  ‘If I were a day dragonrider, and I knew Segun was in control of the night dragon enclave, you can bet your life I’d be concerned enough to have someone on watch,’ Pell said, amazed. ‘What are they thinking? If Segun succeeds and the Oracle dies, this place will be top of his list to visit . . . along with several hundred night dragons. Can you sense Firestorm at all?’

  ‘No,’ Shadow replied. ‘Unless he’s a long way underground, I think it safe to say that he has not arrived yet.’

  Pell grimaced. From the moment he and Shadow had been forced to part from Nolita and Firestorm, he had felt sure he would never see them again – at least, not alive. Nolita had been on the edge of losing her self-control since he had first met her and Pell did not believe her capable of functioning as Firestorm’s rider without support. The odds were, she had run away the moment they landed. He was not looking forward to explaining what had happened to Elian and Kira.

  ‘What do we do now?’ he asked, eyeing the entrance into the mountainside with more than a little nervous anticipation.

  ‘We go in, I suppose,’ Shadow answered. ‘I’ll broadcast a general friendly message as we enter. I don’t want the day dragons to get over-excited and toast us on our way in.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Pell agreed. ‘I’m all for a warm welcome, but not that warm.’

  Shadow descended over the lush green of the forest towards the side of the volcano. The air shimmered with moisture above the treetops, but the sky was clear of cloud and it was surprisingly warm. Pell had his jacket open and had flown all morning without wearing his gloves or overtrousers.

  As they made their final approach, the enormous cave entrance gaped wide and dark, like a gigantic stone mouth twisted sideways. For a moment Pell pictured gargantuan stone teeth springi
ng from either side of the opening ready to chomp shut on them as they entered.

  An old man with white hair and brows awaited them in the huge entrance chamber. Several tunnels led into the volcano’s interior. Some were only large enough for men to walk in single file, others were large enough for a dragon to enter with ease.

  ‘Welcome, young man,’ the old man called. ‘I assume you are Pell, and this fine dragon of yours is Whispering Shadow.’

  ‘That is correct, sir,’ Pell answered. ‘May I dismount?’

  ‘Please do,’ the man offered, reinforcing the invitation with an open handed gesture. ‘I’ve been expecting you. But where are the others? I thought you would have learned to stick together by now.’

  Pell slid down Shadow’s side and landed lightly. He looked around cautiously before answering. It was hard to shake the feeling that a whole army of day dragons might appear at any moment.

  ‘That is a long tale, sir,’ Pell answered carefully. ‘I was hoping to find Nolita and Firestorm here. We were pursued and decided to split up some days ago.’

  ‘They have not arrived yet,’ the man said. ‘But if they were on their way, then I imagine they will get here in due course. I am Barnabas, the senior rider here at our enclave. You do not need to be afraid. I know of your part in the Great Quest. Indeed, I crave news of how you have progressed. Did you secure the Dark Orb?’

  ‘I did, sir . . . Barnabas.’

  ‘Just Barnabas is fine. We do not stand on formality here,’ the old man smiled. His blue eyes sparkled under his white brows and his impressive moustache twitched with amusement. ‘Then you found the Valley of the Griffins,’ he continued. ‘Good. Very good. Yet you and your dragon are still intact. If the heart required was not one of yours, then where did it come from?’

  ‘The heart that formed the orb was ripped from Knifetail, a senior night dragon of Segun’s inner Council.’

  ‘Really?’ Barnabas chuckled. ‘I imagine young Segun was not too happy about that. And the Orb of Vision?’

  ‘You seem to know as much about our quest as I do,’ Pell observed, his suspicion growing fast. Accepting Barnabas at face value would be a mistake. The man looked like a favourite old grandfather with his tidy white beard, white hair and twinkling eyes. But Pell knew all too well that appearances could be deceptive. ‘How do you know about the Orb of Vision?’

  ‘I solved the riddle poem after your fellow questors left with the first orb,’ Barnabas answered with a shrug. ‘The Great Quest has been a part of my life for many, many years. I have studied its history for longer than you’ve been alive. It is hardly surprising that I, of all people, should solve the riddles.’

  ‘And the final orb is . . .?’ Pell asked.

  ‘An egg, or an embryo,’ Barnabas said thoughtfully. ‘I’m not completely certain, but I imagine it to be a dragon egg, for no matter how I twist it around, I cannot see another solution to the first line – “Life after death from death before life”. Death before life – most would say that life begins when you are born or, in a dragon’s case, hatch.’

  ‘But a dragonet is alive in the egg, so how can it be a death before life?’ Pell asked, unconvinced.

  ‘You’re quite right,’ the old rider agreed. ‘The rhyme is not technically correct, but it does fit with the nature of the other riddles. Each has required a personal sacrifice of one form or another. What could be a greater sacrifice than that of a life that has not had a chance to really begin? The greatest of orbs is a dragon’s device – an egg is the most amazing thing a dragon can make. A life’s sacrifice – an unborn dragon for the rebirth of the Oracle – life after death.’

  ‘If you’re right, then the chances of success are pretty slim,’ Pell observed. ‘Dragons don’t clutch that often, do they?’

  ‘I wouldn’t worry about that,’ Barnabas said with a smile. ‘If my answer is correct, then there’ll be eggs somewhere for you and your colleagues to find. The Oracle would not have initiated the Great Quest unless all the orbs were attainable. Come. Let me get you some refreshments. You have no doubt had an arduous journey.’

  ‘Is this Barnabas genuine?’ Pell asked Shadow silently. ‘He seems too good to be true.’

  ‘I sense no word of a lie in what he has said so far,’ Shadow responded. ‘He is either telling the truth, or he is extraordinarily good at masking his true intentions. I think you can trust him.’

  ‘Your dragon will find somewhere comfortable to rest at the end of that passage over there,’ Barnabas added, pointing to one of the larger tunnels. ‘My dragon, Wiseheart, will meet her and show her where to go.’

  Pell nodded and thanked him. ‘Wiseheart!’ he exclaimed through the bond to Shadow. ‘Tell me he’s joking! If she lives up to her name, these two are some pairing.’

  ‘Riders do tend to take on something of the nature of their dragons over time,’ Shadow replied. ‘Some say the reverse is true as well, though I’m not so sure about that. Go with Barnabas. I sense no threat in him. I will see you later.’

  ‘Why do I feel like a fly in a spider’s web?’

  ‘Relax,’ Shadow told him. ‘The day dragons and their riders are notoriously noble. Barnabas has invited you to eat with him. According to the day dragon customs that makes you like his brother until sundown.’

  ‘And then?’

  Shadow did not answer.

  Pell remained unconvinced, but he did as his dragon had suggested and followed Barnabas into what proved to be a maze of tunnels. Every one looked the same. Within a couple of minutes he had totally lost track of where he was and could only hope that Shadow’s assessment was right.

  Barnabas led him into a large dining hall. The chamber with its long rows of tables was empty as it was neither time for lunch, nor dinner. They sat down at one of them and a serving girl appeared with a large jug of ale and some bread. Barnabas spoke quietly with her for a moment and she bustled away quickly.

  ‘Now,’ Barnabas said, placing his elbows on the table in front of him and meshing his fingers together in an arch. He looked into Pell’s eyes, his own eyes dancing with anticipation. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’ Pell replied, still seeing no deception in the old man’s features. ‘I don’t understand why you’re so willing to help a night dragonrider. Day and night dragons have opposed one another for centuries. Why this co-operation?’

  ‘You’re not like the other night dragonriders,’ Barnabas replied steadily. ‘You’re different.’

  ‘I don’t see how.’

  ‘The Oracle chose you for the Great Quest. That, in itself, makes you different. Come. What is it that you want?’

  ‘I want you to lead your entire enclave to the Oracle’s cave and help us deliver the final two orbs.’

  ‘Why on Areth would I need to do that?’ Barnabas asked, his eyebrows drawing together into a frown. ‘You have the combined resources of every type of dragon amongst your group. What could possibly stop you from . . . unless . . . Segun?’

  ‘The night dragons are blockading the cave,’ Pell confirmed. ‘When we left Orupee there were upwards of fifty night dragons there with more arriving by the day. I wouldn’t be surprised to find the entire enclave waiting for us by the time we return, which is why I need the day dragons to answer in kind. If you can distract the night dragons – draw their attention from the Oracle enough that Kira can slip past and deliver the final two orbs . . .’

  ‘If the day dragons come in large numbers, we risk sparking a conflict between dragons on a scale that has not been seen in millennia,’ Barnabas said, shaking his head. ‘It could be disastrous.’

  ‘If you don’t then, without a miracle, the Oracle will die and Segun will bring that conflict to you anyway,’ Pell pointed out. ‘He talks about “The age of dragons” that will begin when the Oracle is no more. I’m certain he intends night dragons to control all of Areth before the year’s out. I assume you would be opposed to that happening.’

  Barn
abas clenched his fingers together tightly, his knuckles whitening as he considered his answer carefully. His eyes lost their sparkle and his face seemed to age.

  ‘Dragon has not fought dragon for a very long time,’ he said gravely. ‘What you’re asking carries too great a risk. The Oracle chose the four of you because you have the combined abilities to solve the riddles and overcome the odds to get the orbs to the Oracle in time.’

  ‘You are wrong,’ Pell countered, his voice cracking slightly in his passion to prove his case. ‘Dragon has fought dragon. Shadow and I have been banished from the night dragon enclave for causing the death of another night dragon. We fought two more, injuring at least one, and possibly both, not five days ago. Firestorm fought another, leaving it stranded with a huge hole burned through its wing. Conflict is coming, Barnabas. Conflict is here. We need your help. I messed up by letting Segun know about the quest. I’m trying to balance that mistake, and I don’t know any other way of doing it. I’m here – a night dragonrider on the Great Quest, trying to make sure we don’t fail dragonkind and deprive it of a future.’

  The serving girl arrived with a steaming plate of food and placed it in front of Pell. Barnabas thanked her absently, lost in thought. The smell of the food rising from the plate was delicious, but Pell did not move. His focus remained fixed on the old man.

  ‘There are one hundred and forty-seven day dragons here in the enclave at the moment,’ Barnabas said slowly. ‘How many night dragons do you think Segun will use to blockade the Oracle’s cave?’

  ‘A lot more than that!’ Pell answered fervently. ‘Using the Orb of Vision, Kira saw night dragons arriving from all directions, but the main bulk from the enclave had not yet arrived. We can expect to face upwards of three hundred night dragons by the time we get there.’

  ‘The day dragons will be outnumbered by two to one and that is not a good way to start any negotiation,’ Barnabas said, his eyes distant and his lips pursed. ‘And certainly not good odds if it comes to a fight. Segun is much like his predecessor. If he feels he has the upper hand, he’s unlikely to back down.’