by Mark Robson
B L O O D/H E A R T/E Y E B A L L/E G G
Elian tried it, but the string of letters were meaningless.
‘It doesn’t mean anything,’ Elian said, confused. ‘It’s just a string of nonsense.’
‘Interesting!’ Jack mused. ‘It appears the only way the solution becomes obvious is when the poem is written in English. Your Oracle is beginning to scare me. In my language the words read: blood, heart, eyeball, egg.’
Elian went pale.
‘“Life after death from death before life”!’ he gasped. ‘An egg! We’ve got to get a dragon’s egg to the Oracle before it hatches! The hatching! But how did the Oracle know about the eggs? That’s impossible!’
‘There is little that is impossible for the Oracle,’ Aurora told him, her voice irritatingly pompous.
‘Can we get back before the last egg hatches?’
‘Of course!’ Aurora answered without hesitation. ‘The Oracle would not have given us a task that was impossible. Don’t worry. I’ll get us back before the last of the eggs hatch. The question is more whether we can transport the egg to the Oracle’s cave in time. Once we get back to the enclave I will have to wait a full day until we can form another gateway and it’s much too great a distance to fly it direct.’
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Final Orb
‘No, Elian! NO!’ Tarl snapped. ‘You’re not taking one of the eggs. I would never ask Blaze such a thing. The very idea is monstrous. It’s unthinkable!’
‘What if I got Aurora to . . .’
‘NO!’ Tarl’s eyes were narrowed, and his face tight with fury. ‘Don’t you dare start Aurora upsetting Blaze over this. If Blaze were human, would you ask her to sacrifice a baby for you? That’s what you’re asking, Elian. The answer is no, and it will remain no.’
Elian nodded, bowed and withdrew down the corridor with Kira at his side. Neema followed them, her face troubled. They walked in silence until they reached the common room. The oddly shaped chamber was filled with natural light that poured in from the opening to the wide mountain ledge at the far end. Hangings adorned the wall and comfortable chairs, piled with soft cushions, beckoned. Elian threw himself into a chair and slumped forwards with his chin in his hands.
‘Well!’ he sighed. ‘What now?’
To Neema it was less than an hour since Elian had left the dawn dragon enclave. Although she had been a dragonrider for some years, she and Shimmer had never travelled into the other world together. It was clear to Elian that she was struggling to comprehend how he and Kira had lived out more than two weeks of their lives in what had been a matter of minutes for her. He suspected that, without the evidence of how much his leg had healed and Shimmer to confirm they were telling the truth, she might not have believed them.
‘It seems your challenge is very different from the previous ones,’ Kira said carefully. ‘Convincing Tarl and Blaze to part with an egg is not going to be easy.’
‘You saw Tarl. You heard what he said,’ Elian grumbled. ‘He won’t listen at all!’
‘What you’re asking is rather a lot,’ Neema observed. ‘Tarl and Blaze have been preparing for the hatching for over two months. It is a momentous occasion and very unusual. Not many riders get to experience what Tarl is going through. He and Blaze have been utterly focused on giving the hatchling dragons the best chance of survival and here you are asking him to sacrifice one. How would you feel in his place?’
‘Not good,’ Elian admitted. ‘But we’re not just talking about the future of one hatchling here. If the Oracle dies, it will be the beginning of the end for all dragonkind.’
‘That’s what the Oracle has told you, is it?’ Neema asked.
‘Yes,’ Kira confirmed.
Elian just nodded.
‘And if the Oracle is lying?’ she asked.
‘Our dragons are insistent that the Oracle doesn’t lie,’ Elian answered, though even he could hear the uncertainty in his voice.
‘Do you think we could steal one?’ Kira asked slowly.
‘I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that!’ Neema gasped, her hands automatically going to her mouth with the shock. ‘For all of our sakes, you should forget that thought ever entered your head. If you tried, Blaze would kill you. And even if, by some chance, you did succeed, she and Tarl would rip Areth apart hunting you down. No. It’s not an option.’
Elian interlocked his fingers behind his neck as he considered what Neema had said. Reluctantly, he was forced to agree with her. Stealing what they needed was not the way ahead. But what choices did that leave?
‘The way will become clear,’ Aurora announced in his mind.
‘What do you mean?’ Elian asked her. ‘How will it become clear?’
‘I don’t know exactly, but my dragonsense tells me it will. Trust me.’
Elian had come to rely a lot on Aurora, but this time her seemingly blind faith that things would work out seemed misplaced. Waiting and watching when there were only a few days left until the harvest full moon seemed a ridiculous thing to do. They needed to get the egg as fast as possible and reach the Oracle’s cave before it was too late, or all the pain and sacrifice they had been through would have been for nothing.
‘Excuse me if I don’t share your optimism,’ Elian told her. ‘I’d like to try to come up with a more practical solution, if I can.’
He sat for some time, lost in thought. Eventually, Neema announced that she ought to get back and check on Tarl and the hatchlings. Elian knew it was an excuse to escape the awkward silence that had descended since their brief discussion. Once she had gone, Kira broached the subject of a raid again, but Elian dismissed it out of hand.
‘Neema was right,’ he said. ‘And Ra is telling me to be patient – that our path will become clear.’
‘What does she mean by that?’
‘I’m darned if I know, but I don’t think she’s keeping information from me,’ Elian replied. ‘I think she’s still expecting an Oracle-inspired miracle. I’ve got to admit the Oracle does appear to have had great foreknowledge of our quest and the problems we had faced. Maybe Ra’s right. Perhaps, just like Jack showing up every time we went into the other world, something amazing will happen to put what we need in our path.’
‘Sounds like wishful thinking to me,’ Kira muttered.
Elian gave her a wry smile. ‘That’s almost exactly what I told Ra,’ he said. ‘But you try telling Fang he’s delusional and see where you get!’
Kira began to laugh. It started as a snigger and quickly developed into a full-blown belly laugh. Within seconds Elian found the infectious nature of her laughter too much to resist. His wry smile became a chuckle and, before long, he was laughing along with her.
When he finally managed to stop, Elian realised that that some of the tension had dropped from his shoulders. His frustration had not gone, but suddenly the situation felt less dire. It was hard to remember the last time he had found something to laugh at. He had spent most of the quest racing from one dangerous place to another.
‘I’m guessing you don’t tell Fang he’s delusional that often,’ Elian commented as he dried his eyes. ‘Perhaps it would do the dragons good to have their failings pointed out every now and then.’
‘My dragonsense is not a failing, Elian,’ Aurora informed him in a matter-of-fact voice. ‘Quite the opposite. You’ll see.’
‘I’m being put in my place, now,’ he said aloud, for Kira’s benefit.
‘Quite right, too,’ she agreed with a final chuckle. ‘I don’t think Fang would talk to me for a month if I called him delusional.’
Elian walked to the open ledge to look out at the lush green jungle in the valley below. It was barely an hour after dawn, yet the temperature and humidity were rising fast. Steam was rising from the thick, leafy canopy in a mist that gave the place an almost magical aura.
Of the three enclaves he had visited, this was by far Elian’s favourite. Was he biased because it was the dawn dragon enclave, he wonde
red? Perhaps, but there was more to it than that. He felt a connection with this place. The volcanic home of the day dragons in Racafi was impressive, and the enormous high mountain hideaway of the night dragons perhaps even more so. But there was something about the setting of this small group of caves in South Cemaria that felt special.
For the rest of the day, Elian’s mood went full circle from frustrated, to relaxed, to angry and back to frustrated again. During the day more eggs had hatched.
‘How many are left now, Ra?’ he asked as the sun finally set and day turned to dusk.
‘Four,’ she replied. ‘And two of those look imminent.’
‘Any sign of your miracle yet?’
‘Not yet,’ she admitted. ‘Give it time.’
‘Give it time! Give it time?’ He could hardly keep his thoughts coherent as he responded. ‘We don’t have any time left! When are you going to accept that the miracle isn’t coming? We need to do something, Ra. If we don’t do it soon, the Great Quest will fail.’
‘We are doing something,’ she said haughtily. ‘We’re waiting. Don’t underestimate the power of patience.’
‘Oh, right!’ Elian exclaimed, thumping his fist against his injured thigh. The pain that shot up his back took his breath away for several seconds. ‘The virtue of patience will win the day, is that it?’ he continued. ‘Well I hate to be the bearer of this bad news, Ra, but the Oracle is unlikely to thank us for waiting if the last egg hatches . . . unless you know of another place where we can find a dragon’s egg, of course.’
‘I would thank you to keep your tone civil, Elian,’ she replied, her tone full of reproof. ‘I doubt you would talk to the elders in your village like this, and I’m far older than any of them. Just remember this is my life purpose we are talking about. I’ve waited centuries for this time. I’ve spent my entire life preparing; honing my instincts and skills to be ready. Everything I am is telling me to be patient. That is what I’m doing. Do you doubt my commitment?’
‘Elian! Kira! Come quickly!’
It was Neema. She looked incredibly excited.
‘Ah!’ Aurora sighed. ‘The waiting is done. My dragonsense is prickling again. I’m surprised you can’t feel it.’
‘What is it, Neema?’ Kira asked, her voice reflecting a hint of Neema’s excitement.
‘You need to come and see for yourself,’ she urged. ‘Quickly! Come to the hatching cavern.’
The dawn dragonrider turned and ran back the way she had come. Elian and Kira were quick to follow. When they got to the chamber entrance, they saw Tarl staring wide-eyed through the open door.
‘What is it?’ Elian asked. ‘What’s going on?’
Tarl did not answer. He continued to stare in an obvious state of shock. Elian edged forwards until he could follow the line of Tarl’s eyes and his breath caught in his throat. There, in the very centre of the chamber, was a metal plinth just like the others they had seen at the location of each of the other orbs.
‘Where did that come from?’ Kira asked. ‘I swear I scoured every hair’s breadth of this enclave looking for it and I found no trace.’
‘It rose up through the floor,’ Neema answered. ‘There was no opening – nothing! It just seemed to rise through solid rock.’
‘I’m sorry, Ra,’ Elian projected. ‘You were right. I should have trusted you.’
‘Thank you, Elian,’ she replied, her voice not even slightly smug. ‘Your apology is accepted.’
‘What are we supposed to do now?’ he asked.
‘I’m not sure,’ she replied. ‘But we will find out soon enough.’
Elian no longer doubted her. As he watched, two of the four remaining eggs hatched, their shells shattering almost simultaneously. The two dragonets protested their abrupt emergence with ear-rending cries, tottering around and each snapping at the other as if blaming it for their circumstances. One of the two remaining eggs wobbled, but the final egg remained unmoving amongst the shattered shards of shell.
‘That last one looks smaller than the others,’ Kira whispered softly in Elian’s ear. ‘Do you think—?’
The question went unfinished, but Elian had reached the same conclusion as Kira. The hatchling inside was no longer alive. Death before life – that was how the Oracle had described it. Could it be true? Was it really that easy? After the sacrifices the other teams had been required to make – the blood, the heart and poor Fang’s eye, it seemed almost unfair that he should simply be required to pick up an egg and put it onto a plinth. Surely there must be more to it than that!
Taking a step forwards, Elian had not even reached the threshold of the chamber when Blaze’s head snapped around, eyes intent and body instantly emitting a warning glow. He stopped and a strong hand grasped his shoulder.
‘You cannot go in,’ Tarl said, though there was no anger in his voice now – only an echo of his dragon’s warning stance. ‘Blaze won’t permit it. She’ll kill you if you go near her remaining eggs.’
‘But I’ve got to go in,’ Elian replied. ‘It’s my destiny to go in there and put that last egg on that plinth. The Oracle requires it.’
‘Oracle, or not, Blaze won’t listen,’ Tarl warned. ‘Please, reconsider. I don’t want to see you hurt. At least wait until the penultimate egg hatches first. Blaze isn’t in her right mind. The hatching has made her unreasonably defensive. She wouldn’t even let me in there to help the hatchlings get to the meat. I sense she already knows there’s something different about the final egg, but I wouldn’t go in there now if I were you.’
‘All right,’ Elian conceded, backing away from the entrance. ‘I’ll wait until the other egg hatches, but no longer. If that plinth disappears again, I’ll never forgive myself.’
He did not have long to wait. The final hatchling burst through its shell, gave a single shriek and made straight for the final scraps of meat that the other dragonets had left.
The remaining egg did not move. Blaze slowly lowered her head over it, twisting until the side of her face gently kissed its surface. She remained still like that for some time before slowly rising over it again. Elian looked at Tarl questioningly. The rider’s face held a look of tender sorrow.
‘She knows,’ he breathed.
Blaze opened her mouth then and the sound that emitted was heart-rending. Her keening filled the cavern, flooded out through the door and around the enclave, spilling out of the entrance and across the valley below. It was so piercing that the people of the nearest tribal village two leagues away stopped in their tracks to listen. There was no mistaking the sadness and mourning in her voice, filled with tragedy and loss.
‘Tell her,’ Elian urged Aurora. ‘Tell her it’s not the end for her final egg. Tell her I’m going to help it be born into the most amazing being known to dragonkind – that her last little egg is destined to be transformed into one far greater than any of the others. Tell her now. I’m going in.’
‘She’s not listening, Elian,’ Aurora warned. ‘Her mind is closed. Be careful. I don’t seem to be getting through to her.’
‘Keep trying,’ Elian said, stepping across the threshold and into the cavern. ‘Don’t let up.’
‘Elian!’ Tarl hissed. ‘What are you doing? Don’t be a fool! Come back.’
He took another step forwards, and Blaze fixed her eyes on him. Her head drew higher and began to sway gently from side to side on her long neck, like a serpent preparing to strike. All the while she continued to keen, her voice rising and falling in a seemingly never-ending cry of sorrow. Elian watched Blaze intently, following the flowing movement of her head as he inched further and further into the cavern.
‘I’m not here to harm your final egg,’ he whispered, not daring to blink for fear of breaking eye contact. ‘I want to help it. Your babies are amazing. You’re amazing. All your other eggs have produced fine dragonets. Let me help the last one become something even more incredible.’
A sudden movement in the corner of his eye drew his attention for the briefest o
f instants. It was the final hatchling. The baby dragon had finished gobbling down the last piece of meat and had begun stumbling across to where all the others lay asleep in a tangled pile. His distraction lasted barely more than the time it took to blink, but Blaze had seen his glance in the direction of her babies. To her mind that one flicker of attention in the wrong direction was enough to make him a threat.
‘ELIAN!’
Aurora’s shout echoed in his mind, even as Kira’s echoed physically in the cave. Blaze lunged forwards at him, her enormous mouth gaping. Elian launched into a rolling dive to the right as the dragon’s great jaws drove through the space he had occupied a heartbeat before. In an instant, Elian was on his feet and sprinting again, ducking under the dragon’s long neck in a zigzagging run that took him away from the dragonets. Those of the newborns that were still awake hissed in sympathy with the anger of their mother.
Blaze swept her head around in a long, low arc after Elian, seeking to crush him against the wall of the chamber.
‘BEHIND YOU!’
Kira’s warning was timely, but did not change Elian’s tactic.
He was aware of Blaze’s move and made another dive, this time flat and to the left. His belly, thighs and elbows grazed against the rock floor of the chamber as he skidded clear. The dawn dragon’s head whipped past so close that he felt the swoosh of displaced air. Blaze’s cheek hit the chamber wall with a hefty thud, and she let out a roar of pain and frustration.
Scrambling to his feet, Elian took off again, this time in a darting run straight towards the angry Blaze. He could hear Aurora’s mental shouts as he ran. She was trying to convince Blaze to stop her attacks, but the mother dragon was paying no attention. Elian’s focus was totally fixed on his goal – the egg. He had to reach it. Blaze drew her head back to strike again, but even as she began her downward lunge towards him, Elian covered the final few paces to his goal and wrapped his body around the great orb of mottled shell. Bracing himself for the crushing strike of the dragon, Elian closed his eyes and gritted his teeth.
