Dragons in the Stars

by Jeffrey A. Carver

Jael snorted. "You think I'm going to be able to sleep after this? You were in the net longer than I was. Why don't you sleep? I'll see what the library has on this." She was a nervous wreck; she might as well try to unwind by doing something useful.

  Ar agreed, and with a comforting touch on her shoulder, left her to monitor the bridge—left her to look for clues, if there were any to be found.

  * * *

  By the time Ar reappeared, she had spent hours in the rigger library computer and twice dipped into the net to make observations, and she'd made an astonishing discovery. She could scarcely believe it herself, and wasn't quite sure how to tell Ar. "It's no coincidence," she said, feeling more than a little giddy.

  "What isn't? Who said anything about a coincidence? Are you feeling all right?"

  She nodded, in profound weariness. "I'm fine. But the mountains. It's not a coincidence about the mountains."

  Ar had brought her a mug of cocoa. He set it down beside her, then sat and studied her face. He looked more alien than ever at this moment, no doubt a trick of the lighting. His head seemed so top-heavy, she thought it would tip off his neck. His mouth opened and moved. "Jael. What mountains?"

  She blinked. Words came with difficulty. "The image we finished with . . . the avalanche. When we hit bottom, we were at the base of a mountain. A range of mountains. Don't you remember?"

  "Yes, of course I do." Ar's eyes seemed to glow at her. "What about them?"

  "I know those mountains. I've been here before, but farther up the range." She paused, wondering if she sounded crazy. "I felt sure we were too far away, even though we're en route to Aeregian space. But Ar, we went way off course—carried by the shockwaves, I guess. Anyway, I'm almost certain that we're near the same mountains . . . where I met . . . where I met . . ." Her mouth resisted forming the words. "Where Highwing . . . lives." Her voice sounded like a sigh, or an appeal.

  Ar was silent for a long time, not looking at her. She took a series of slow, deep breaths, waiting for him to answer. He murmured something to himself and studied the instrument readings for a while. Finally he said, "If that's true, then we'll have to be extra careful, won't we?"

  "Careful? Yes, but—" Highwing!

  "Dragons, Jael. Remember? If it's true, what you say, then they're dangerous. Dueling, and so on. Correct? You can vouch for that."

  "Yes, but Highwing won't do anything to us—"

  Ar's cautioning hand stopped her. "Perhaps not. Perhaps not. But Highwing is just one dragon. What about the others? If your memories and the legends are literally true, as you say, then we could be facing any number of unknown dragons, besides the one you know." Ar's voice was steady, sober. He sounded worried; she'd hoped he'd be reassured.

  "I suppose that's true," she whispered, remembering suddenly that Highwing himself had said that not all dragons would be as welcoming to her as he had been. "But if we are anywhere near Highwing, if he can help us . . ." And her voice failed, but she remembered clearly Highwing's parting words to her: I will hear you, though all the mountains lie between us. And she knew that even if Ar did not take those words seriously, she did. She must.

  "Jael," Ar said gently. "What else have you learned about our course? What's the shortest route to a starport where we can put in?"

  She sighed, and her head seemed to hurt as she spoke, though it was really not so much a pain as a blurring of her thoughts. "I don't know yet. I just . . . don't know . . ." And her voice failed again, because the truth was that she had her suspicions that they would have to cross the dragon realm in any case, but she didn't want to say that, didn't think Ar would believe her . . .

  She started, as Ar caught her. She'd been falling over, falling asleep.

  "Time for you to get some rest," Ar murmured as he guided her toward her cabin. "Time enough for all of this later . . ."

  * * *

  When next she spoke with Ar, it was in the net, after she'd awakened from a long, deep sleep filled with dreams. She could not remember the content of the dreams, but the intense fear and longing in them lingered for hours after awakening. She found Ar assessing the region they had left the ship in; he had not changed the image significantly, nor released the stabilizers. He seemed in a pensive mood.

  Have you determined the nearest port? Jael asked softly. She looked around for Ed, but didn't see him.

  Ar nodded. Raising his eyes, he noted the way she was looking around and said, Ed went to sleep. I think I was making him depressed.

  Jael's mouth opened. She didn't know what to say. Until now, Ar had been her best defense against depression. Finally she murmured. What did you find?

  The Clendornan chuckled somberly, his great, wide-topped head tipping from side to side. That apparently you were right.

  She shook her head, confused. What do you mean?

  These indeed seem to be the same mountains as those of the "dreaded mountain route" to Lexis. I found the three closest starports, but every possible course to them entails traveling through, over, or around these mountains. Ar's voice was flat, and that, more than anything else, revealed how disturbed he was.

  Jael stared at him, trying to draw a breath. Conflicting emotions were rising in her; and she knew that she had better sort them out quickly, because one thing she had not counted on was that Ar might be afraid. Afraid of what could lie within those mountains. Afraid of what she had told him, what she knew to be true; afraid he would learn that she had been right all along. His fear was not visible, but she sensed it—she knew.

  Ar surveyed the mountains that rose from the horizon, above the dunes of snow cradling their ship. It's going to be a hard way to go, he murmured finally, making an obvious effort to be optimistic.

  Yes. It probably will be. She too was aware of the limitations of their ship, with its impaired flux-pile. But she could not keep away other thoughts, nor could she keep the beginning of a smile from her lips. But there might be a way that's not visible to us yet. A way that we won't find until we've really looked.

  With Highwing's help, she added in the silence of her thoughts. But meeting Ar's sad, frightened eyes, she found she could think of nothing more to say.

  Chapter 24: A Realm Changed

  FRIEND OF HIGHWING . . . !

  Her voice reverberated from the mountain cliffs as they glided closer, ever closer to the foreboding-looking peaks. It seemed a harsh land, grimmer and somehow less alive than she'd remembered. They were in a different part of the range now, and perhaps this region has always had a different character. But her intuition, her rigger instinct, told her that something had changed, and she had an uneasy feeling that it was more than just the outward appearance.

  For hours now they had been rigging closer to the mountains; for hours she had been calling out to Highwing—hoping that he would remember his promise to her, hoping that he would hear her voice. Hoping that her memory was true, and that everything she had been claiming to Ar would be proved now, when it mattered. There had been no response of any kind to her calls. But of course, Highwing could be far away; he could be at the other end of the range. And while he had shown her powers that seemed magical, he was not omnipotent. She could only keep calling, hoping, and trusting.

  At her back, Ar was maintaining the fine-tuning of the flux-pile and the stability of the ship. Ed was perched nearby, watching eagerly for signs of giant lizards. It's a long mountain range, Ar remarked. The topography could be deceptive. Are you sure that we're downrange of the area you flew through, before?

  She shook her head. I can't really be sure of anything. Except that there is someone who will hear me, and answer. But was she even sure of that? Who knew what length of time had passed here in the Flux, while she had carried on her life on the outside? Suppose Highwing had grown old and died . . .

  She deflected the thought. Can we angle off to the starboard, toward that pass we saw earlier? It looked like an easier way through. Unfortunately, the winds were unfavorable for moving in that direction. But no matter which way the
y flew there would be difficulties and hazards.

  Ar agreed, and the ship turned, coming to the new heading like a sailing ship beating into the wind. They continued moving steadily, if more slowly. As the peaks drew closer, she shouted again: THIS IS JAEL, FRIEND OF HIGHWING! and again her voice echoed back to her, attenuated by the distance.

  Rrrrraww. Smell glizzards there, Ed muttered. He had his head craned to the starboard, toward the north of the pass, as they'd denoted the directions here. Jael watched him uneasily, wondering if his observation was serious, or just wishful.

  There was a late afternoon haze in the air, obscuring distant details. Perhaps that was why she didn't see them until they were startlingly large against the slopes: dragons, at least half a dozen, wheeling and banking to close on the intruder, the spaceship. Jael's heart almost stopped as she focused on the living shapes. Ar—!

  A tongue of flame billowed in their path. A great-winged reptile swept past in front of them. A dark-jeweled eye rotated to peer in their direction, glinting with unreadable intent.

  As the creature veered away, Jael cried out frantically: I'm seeking Highwing! Where is Windrush-Wingtouch-Highwing—Terror-of-the-Last-Peak?

  The air erupted with a thunderous commotion as the dragons reacted to her cry. They flew one way and another around the riggers, rumbling and billowing fire. Jael sensed Ar's alarm. Ed was beside himself, squawking, Graggons, graggons! Jael was speechless; this was hardly what she'd been expecting. The dragons, too many and too fast to follow, swarmed closer and closer, filling the air with smoke and fire. She remembered now that this was how it had happened the first time, until she'd made peace with Highwing. Perhaps she could make peace again.

  Please! she shouted. We want to talk to you!

  A gnarled-faced dragon wheeled around from the front. Jael started to speak—but a billow of flame and sparks erupted in her face and a voice rumbled in her mind, DO YOU THINK TO MEDDLE AGAIN IN THIS PLACE, RIGGER? The dragon sheared away, rocking the net with turbulence. Jael gasped, struggling to maintain control.

  No! she yelled. Ar, be ready for a fight! Fireproof us! Ed, stay behind me and be still!

  As he assisted Jael in strengthening the bubble of the net that surrounded them, Ar asked worriedly, Jael, what's going on? Are these real, or are they from your memory?

  Were they real? she thought in anguish. Of course they were! And yet—she remembered her false image of Mogurn, and just for an instant, doubted. Could this all be a manifestation of her own fears? Highwing! she cried out desperately, hoping to drive fear from her thoughts.

  Another blast of flame splashed over the net, and a great dark shape rocked them as it flew past. Begone! it snorted contemptuously.

  Or do you think yourself a guest here? laughed another, passing just as close.

  Fear began to give way to anger. We are here to see Highwing! she shouted, as Ar strained to hold the net firm. She was well aware of their reduced strength in the net and had no idea how long they could survive a real attack.

  A new voice seemed to echo from the cliffs. IF YOU HAVE COME TO SPEAK THAT ACCURSED NAME, THEN YOU TOO WILL DIE!

  Jael shivered, and following Ar's push on the stern-position, helped him veer away from two dragons that were rising from below. The creatures shot upward, past them, as Seneca rolled into a dive. Flames blossomed around them, but only for an instant. Jael, we have to know! Ar shouted. Is this real or isn't it?

  REEEL! IT'S REEEL! Ed shrieked, taking flight over their heads. TERRIBLE! TERRIBLE! FLY AWAY! FLY AWAY!

  Ed, stay down, damn it! Jael shouted. Yes, it's real! I don't know what's wrong! She did not dare cry out for Highwing again. The best thing she could do was to get them out of here. But how? Above them soared a sky fall of dragons. The horizon offered only barren peaks where they would be as vulnerable as lambs. Below them loomed cliffs and jagged slopes, and they were moving too fast to spy a hiding place, even if one existed.

  I'm changing the image, Ar said, and Jael offered no objection. She felt a moment of lightheadedness, and her vision blurred perilously—they were too damned close to those rocks now!

  She heard a squawk. That way! That way! Hrawwwk!

  Ed flew down toward the rocks, and the landscape shimmered and became solid again, unaltered. It won't change, Ar said, and his voice was calm, but tinged with fear.

  No, Jael whispered. This is the landscape that is. But if we can't change it, we can change ourselves instead! She swallowed and looked up, where the dragons were circling—and saw them peeling off one by one to dive for the attack. We've got to make ourselves smaller, and find a place to hide.

  This way! Ed screamed, batting back up toward them and spinning in midair to dive again.

  Jael didn't hesitate, and Ar was right behind her. They wrapped the net tightly around themselves; the three of them and Seneca became as one—a hawk speeding toward a crevice in the nearby cliff. The parrot led the way flawlessly; he was terrified, but his keen eyes brought them directly into the narrow opening. The cliff seemed to swallow them, as a splash of flame seared their tail.

  An angry dragon raked at the outside of the crevice with its claws. IF YOU WOULD BE OUR GUEST, THEN COME WITH US! it bellowed raucously, its voice reverberating through the stone. But they were out of reach now, in a narrow cave that seemed to extend far back into the mountain.

  They sped onward, transforming themselves into a bat, seeking the deepest recesses of the cavern. Was there an end to this cave, this fracture in the mountain? Jael couldn't tell. Ed urged them onward into the darkness. A stream of dank air flowed past, chilling Jael to the bone.

  Eventually they slowed, to rest and gather their wits. Jael, trembling, whispered silently to herself: Highwing are you here? Are you anywhere? And to Ar: Maybe we can go all the way through to the other side of the mountain, and then we can . . . and she ran out of words, because in fact she had absolutely no idea what they could do, even if they succeeded in passing through the mountain.

  Ar was very close to her in the net, his voice calming. They knew Highwing's name, Jael! They knew it. But they hated it. Why?

  Yes—why? she thought. She had reacted with such alarm to the immediate peril that she had not focused on what the dragons had said: You too will die . . . .

  My God, she whispered. Had Highwing died, then—killed by his own kind? Or were they threatening to kill him? Ar, if those were enemies of Highwing . . . if it was something that I did . . . .

  She hesitated, feeling a terrible dread. She remembered suddenly the moment in which she had given Highwing her name, and the tremors that had shaken the mountains in response. She felt as though those tremors were echoing inside her right now. She remembered that Highwing had said there would be trouble because of what he had done, in befriending her. If he was in danger now because of her . . . Ar, is it possible—do you think there is any way that we could—? Her voice caught, and she couldn't finish the question. But she knew this: if Highwing was in danger, she could not just leave and pretend she hadn't known.

  It was obvious that Ar understood her intent. Jael, what could we possibly do to help your friend? We're in terrible danger ourselves. And we don't even know where he is.

  Their eyes met in the gloom of the net. Jael wished she could somehow will him to understand how deeply her heart went out to Highwing, and how much she would risk for the friend who had helped her so. But she could find no words.

  They were gliding slowly through the darkness, twisting and turning to follow the narrow passage. She could sense the stone passing close by on either side of them, and was grateful for Ed's sharp eyes and instincts. The parrot was completely absorbed in finding a way through this labyrinth of darkness. They passed a patch of wall that glowed dimly, perhaps from phosphorescent lichen or moss. It was an eerie sight, and she shivered as she turned to watch the ghostly light disappearing behind them. I know we're in danger, she said finally, her voice echoing softly. But I owe him, Ar. More than I can say. If there'
s any way I can help him, I have to try.

  When Ar didn't answer immediately, she took his silence as deliberation. There was a change in him, and she thought she knew what it was. It was that he believed her now. He had seen the dragons, seen their fury—not as a tale, but as reality. And he wanted to get away from it; he didn't like the dragon reality, didn't like it at all. But now, it seemed, they would have to make some choices. And her choices might not be the same as his.

  She had no idea how far they had traveled through the body of the mountain, when Ed squawked, fluttering his wings, Aarrk. Coming out, coming out.

  Jael peered ahead, and indeed there was a vague lessening of the darkness, and a fresher smell to the air. But would dragons be waiting for them on the outside? We must be very careful coming out. I suggest we stay small, until we know we are in the clear. Ar didn't answer, and she assumed control as they neared the exit point. The rocks widened, became a gloomy cave, slowly brightening. They were still in the form of a bat, quick and maneuverable in flight.