The dragon settled down glumly. And I shall have to learn more about you. Very well. If it must be. I am Windrush-Wingtouch-Highwing—Terror-of-the-Last-Peak.
I don't want to know! she snapped.
I suppose you may call me Highwing. You might as well know that my name is of some note in the realm. And I am the sire of the four fastest young dragons in the whole of—
You are a braggart, also, Jael interrupted, startling the dragon into silence. It shifted its position awkwardly; the crag was small, compared to the dragon, and there was hardly any room left over for a frail human. That, Jael thought, was as good a reason as any to take her leave. Look, I only want to be on with my flight, she informed him. You've been . . . most enlightening. But this isn't helping me reach my destination. I'm afraid I must leave now.
Leave? Highwing rumbled. That is impossible!
Why?
Well—that is to say—you must make up your mind! The dragon scrutinized her with large, luminous eyes. You really didn't come here to duel?
I told you. No.
Highwing vented smoke, squinting. In that case, it must be that you have come here for . . . another reason. I am troubled by this, rigger. Jael LeBrae. I am . . . troubled . . . by the meaning of this. And by you.
By me? she murmured. And she realized, but with only a dizzy half-awareness, that his eyes were shining hypnotically into hers. She wanted to turn away, but could not; there was a terrible magnetism in his gaze. She became aware of a strange sensation in herself, as though she had turned transparent, as though the dragon were seeing much more of her than the surface manifestation she intended to show. What are you doing to me? she whispered.
There seemed to be a rush and a hiss around her, a flurry of activity that she could not see.
She may well be the one, said a voice—not the dragon's.
She tried to focus, to see who was speaking. She could not move her gaze.
That is easy for you to say. That was Highwing's voice, barely audible. Do you know the trouble it would cause? Who am I to make such a claim?
You must judge that yourself, whispered the other. But remember the words. Remember Skytouch.
There was a long pause. Then Highwing: I remember Skytouch very well. There was renewed anger in the dragon's voice.
Do you? It would not always seem so, from your actions.
Iffling, speak to me not of things that are not your affair! hissed the dragon. Begone! And with those words, he blinked, releasing Jael from his gaze.
She drew a deep breath and shook her head, trying to refocus her eyes. Something small and luminous and ghostly, hardly more than a flicker of light, floated in the air beside the dragon. As you wish, spoke the voice that she had heard moments ago. And the flicker of light vanished. Jael stared, dumbfounded, into the dark air where it had been. She looked slowly back at Highwing.
Aahhhhhh . . . the dragon sighed, steam trailing from his nostrils. There will be unhappiness about this, that is certain. Great unhappiness. He stared at her for a long moment.
What was that? she asked.
What was what?
That thing I just saw.
Oh. The iffling. The dragon sharpened a foreclaw on the rock. Meddling creature. Still, I may have erred in sending it away so soon. But its words . . . Highwing hesitated.
Troubled you, Jael said sarcastically.
Highwing blinked. Indeed. And you—I must learn, now, what to make of you.
You don't have to make anything of me. Just let me go.
The dragon cocked his head. Oh? And if I did? Do you think you would leave this realm alive? You have already been noticed, you know, and not just by me. Did you not feel that shudder in the underrealm? You have placed yourself in great danger by coming here. Do you think they would let you leave? His eyes shifted to her left. You would not be the first outsider to die in their flame . . . if their boasts are to be believed.
Jael followed the direction of his gaze. The other dragons were still wheeling in the night air against the moon. She had forgotten about them. She could see tiny billows of flame; the dragons were not too close now, yet close enough to attack, if they wished to. Do you mean . . . that riggers are . . . always killed? she asked, swallowing.
Highwing answered in a mutter. Who knows, really? There is little enough that is certain, these days. He paused in thought. Though there is one, or I should say, rumor of one who . . . walks in the realm as a free demon. More than that, I don't know. But—
He was interrupted by voices grumbling in the distance: Highwing . . . Highwing . . . why do you wait?
Highwing's voice rumbled to full power. THIS ONE IS MINE! he thundered, blasting the air with fire. YOU MAY LEAVE US ALONE!
He was answered by distant, haughty laughter. But the other dragons seemed to move farther off. Jael watched them uneasily. She turned to Highwing. I am yours? Is that what you think?
Steam curled into the air from the dragon's great nostrils. Let us say that I fear that you are mine, the dragon said with evident reluctance. Something is greatly amiss here, one known as Jael. You have come innocently, it would seem. As the words say.
The words?
The Words. The speaking. The prophecy. As the iffling has reminded me. If you are the one . . . He sighed again, then raised his head, as though cutting off his train of thought. I have already done the unthinkable, in sparing you. And yet, it seems I must. To refuse would be to concede to those . . . to allow those who do evil to the realm . . . to prevail. Jael tried to interrupt; but he continued speaking, as though following disconnected thoughts, his voice growing deeper. Ahhh, and yet even so, I feel . . . I sense . . . still another force, another evil at work. Something that has nothing to do with me, or this realm. Something within . . . you! How strange! His eyelids closed and opened again. He seemed surprised. Perhaps several somethings. I cannot say precisely. He drew a long, rumbling breath and seemed to debate something in his thoughts. I almost fear to ask this, but . . . do you wish to tell me of it?
Jael felt a growing sense of unreality. The dragon was making no sense to her. Tell you—?
What is troubling you.
I have nothing to tell you, she said, a little dizzily, except to mind your own affairs. His insistence was wearing at her. And every time he looked at her she felt naked, as though he were looking right through her, finding every one of her faults.
I have received your name, and given you mine, the dragon said in an injured tone, as if that explained everything. You proposed the bonding, and I accepted, in honor. I trust you will not abuse the privilege. You may trust me, as well.
After you lied and tried to kill me?
That was when we were dueling. And before I knew that you were—or might be—He paused, then grumbled something under his breath which she didn't catch. Well, in any case, it was expected.
Not by me, it wasn't.
The dragon stared at her without answering. In the silence, she knew that she should be on her way. But something in her did not quite want to go, something apart from her fear of the other dragons. Something in her wanted to learn more from this Highwing. He spoke of things she did not understand. But he almost sounded as if he had . . . expected her, somehow. The dragon cleared his throat steamily. Some of the clouds broke and stars appeared over the mountains, Jael stared at them longingly, thinking of her dream: flying among the stars. That was what she was doing now. Wasn't she?
A voice broke the silence, neither hers nor Highwing's. What's going on?
The dragon peered around in confusion, but Jael recognized the voice with a shiver. I'm flying, Mogurn, she answered, her voice tightening.
Jael, come out of the net at once, ordered Mogurn's bodiless, furious voice.
I can't, she said, with a glance at Highwing. There are dragons close by. Very close. Please don't argue with me, she thought fervently. Our lives could depend on it.
Mogurn's answer was harsh, but tinged with fear. Can you get us out of it? Out
of trouble?
I'm trying. If you let me.
Do so. When we're out of trouble, you come and see me, Jael. I'm very disappointed in you. Mogurn broke the connection abruptly.
Jael shuddered and gazed off into the night, not meeting the dragon's eyes. Still, she was aware of his eyes glowing at her, through the thin curls of smoke that rose from his snout. I think I begin to perceive, Highwing murmured. You must answer to someone . . . in your realm. Your spaceship. And that disturbs you. Am I right?
Jael didn't answer, but something made her turn her head and look into those enormous eyes. The intensity of his gaze caused her to shiver. He seemed to be thinking deeply about something. Without friend, will come one, he murmured to himself. Giving her name, will come one. Ah, Skytouch! He shook his great head in dismay. Jael, he said finally, and his voice became so soft that it was almost inaudible. You present me with a dilemma. What I am about to suggest is . . . not done . . . in this realm. And yet, it seems required by honor, by my obligation not to abuse what you have given me—in your name, and your . . . garkkondoh . . . real self.
She squinted in puzzlement. What do you mean?
The dragon cleared his throat, noisily and at length. Perhaps it would be better if you came with me for a little while. It might be that I can help you. Almost wistfully, he continued, A dragon helping a rigger. Imagine! Let us hope that I am right.
She shook her head. I don't understand you.
The dragon's eyes glinted. Then she thought she heard something like a rumble of laughter, or perhaps a darker kind of sound, very soft, very deep in the earth. As the sound died away, Highwing said, It appears that I am your servant and friend now, Jael—and you mine, if you will. It has been made our duty to help each other if we can. So the Words would seem to say. And so, you really should—must!—come with me.
But I don't see why, she persisted. How can you ask me to trust you?
The dragon answered softly. Because you have come to me. And because I seem to be all you have at the moment.
Jael stared at him, wide-eyed with amazement. But for no reason she could understand, she felt her suspicions fading. A host of fears streamed through her mind: about Mogurn, and the pallisp, and the safety of her ship. And then they seemed to drain away. For some reason, a part of her wanted to go with this dragon—where, she didn't know. Never mind that he had tried to kill her. She squinted at his huge steady eyes, set within that great knobbed and finely scaled head. Strange as it seemed, she felt no threat. Certainly the dragon had nothing to fear from her, and if he meant to harm her, there was no need for him to resort to trickery. I suppose, she said, you're going to promise not to hurt me. And you'll expect me to believe that.
The dragon looked at her thoughtfully. No one can promise not to hurt another—can one, Jael?
Jael half closed her eyes, feeling a pain well up inside her. She tried to shut it away, but couldn't.
A moment later Highwing added softly, as though to himself, There may be great hurt, before it is all over. But perhaps that need not concern us now.
She scarcely heard him, thinking suddenly of her ship and her flight. Never in her rigging experience had she heard of anything like this. But what were her choices, really? She was in a dragon place now, and subject to attack on sight. It seemed better to be with a dragon who, perhaps, intended no harm to her. What exactly, she said finally, did you have in mind?
The dragon blinked, dimming his eyes momentarily, like a ship's signal lights at sea. Climb onto my back. He turned around carefully on the crag and crouched low.
After a long hesitation, Jael climbed up and perched astride the base of his neck, just in front of his wing joints. She took a deep breath and clutched his neck.
Hold tight, he said, and sprang into the night air.
Chapter 10: A Dragon's Truth
THE WIND whispered in her ears, sighed through her hair. She clung, dizzy with confusion, with relief and fear and uncertainty. The power in the dragon's wings was unnerving at first, but after a time the stroking movements began to feel soothing. Instinctively, she stroked his silken-hard scales.
That feels good, right behind the ears, Highwing remarked, as he flew.
Abruptly she stopped. Too bad, she muttered.
Highwing chuckled and banked so that she could see the landscape below. They were flying very low over the mountain terrain, dark ravines and jutting rock rushing by, only dimly visible in the scattered moonlight. Highwing suddenly banked the other way and dropped into a plummeting dive. Jael clung breathlessly. Beneath them, a valley stretched open, all shadow and glimmering moonlight. She peered past Highwing's head, straining to pick out detail. Where are we going? she shouted. The dragon belched a flame in answer.
A moment later, he slowed his descent. They were approaching what looked like a wide, billowing, diaphanous curtain hung across the air, a sparkling veil of mist. Highwing glided directly into it. Jael felt the cool touch of the mist on her face and smelled a sharp tang in the air. With a dizzying rush, she felt a strange internal sensation, as though time and dimension were twisting around and through her—almost as though they were passing from one level of the Flux into another. That seemed unlikely; but something was happening, and it felt like something peculiar to this place, this realm, this region of the Flux; it was something peculiar to the dragon and his powers.
Even as the mist billowed around her, she caught glimpses of dark stone walls sliding by, almost enclosing her and the dragon. She had no idea how far they had flown, or in what direction, and she was losing track of time, as well. Suddenly the mist vanished and they were flying free again, under a gorgeously clear, starry sky. A mountain slope still sprawled beneath them, and they glided down over it, toward a place that shone golden in the night like a half-concealed valley.
I must be dreaming this, she thought. I must be creating the image. And yet, she knew she was not.
Highwing followed a descending trail of glitter strewn in the air. The sparkling trail descended into an open forest—a most peculiar place, with soft lights hanging in the boughs of the trees. And the trees! They were like nothing she had ever seen before: some had graceful, upward-arching branches and cup-shaped leaves; others had long trailing violet strands that reminded her of terran weeping willows; still others had round silver leaves and small glowing spheres that might have been fruit, or perhaps actual lanterns. There was a remarkable profusion of flowering bushes, with extravagant and luminous blossoms.
It is real, Highwing remarked, perhaps reading her thoughts as he angled low under a glimmering archway that spanned an opening in the trees. Gossamer strands crisscrossed over their heads as they glided through a long pavilion lined by shadowy trees. The dragon barely fluttered his wings; they floated as effortlessly as spirits in the night. This is a special place for me, he murmured. It is a place of power, and a place of memories. No outsider has ever seen it before. Do you like it?
It's beautiful, Jael whispered. She gazed about in fascination as they emerged from the arching pavilion. Off to the left, she spied a small waterfall spilling into a starlit pool. Several odd-looking creatures with spindly legs stood at the pool's edge, drinking from the water. A sudden waver in the air caught her attention, a quivering light. The creature again—what was it?—the iffling? No, It was another dragon, but it was shimmering and transparent, as though it were only half there. Moonlight seemed to gleam off its scales, though there was no moon in the sky now. Its eyes flickered orange and seemed to focus on them. Jael thought she heard it speak, its voice a muffled grumble in the air. She could not understand any words, but she heard an unmistakable dissatisfaction or anger in its tone, and for some reason it made her shiver.
Highwing's throat began to rumble in answer. She could not understand what he was saying, either; it was like the sound of a distant thunderstorm. But the two voices intersected and seemed to shake the air, and she sensed that some power was being played out between the two dragons—a dangerous p
ower, she thought, a contest of wills. And then the night air grew still, and she blinked, and the other dragon was gone. There was nothing at all to indicate that it had ever been there, except a buzzing dizziness in her thoughts. She drew a breath. What was that?
Hm? Highwing inquired.
What was . . . that dragon?
Nothing. A mere disturbance in the underrealm. It was nothing.
What do you mean, nothing? You and that dragon sounded—
We were having a minor disagreement, is all. The dragon tossed his head like a horse. It was nothing. He was silent for a moment. Then: Jael, take a good look at this place I have brought you to.
Jael shook her head and focused on the garden and the pool.
This is no mere garden. This is a place where we will begin to learn more of each other.
Dragons in the Stars Page 10
