by Mark Robson
Kasau did not pause. He ran forwards and launched his spear in a mighty throw towards the escaping prisoner and his rescuer. It arced high into the air, almost seeming to hang in the sky before slowly dipping point downwards and plummeting towards its target.
The spear missed the two human figures, but struck the hazy blur beneath and behind them. A mighty roar of pain split the air and a charcoal-grey dragon materialised from the haze. The spear was stuck firmly in its flank. The two riders turned and looked down at the spear. Even at this range, Husam could see the horror on their faces. It was not a mortal wound, but the spear had penetrated deep through the dragon’s scales.
They were airborne and climbing now, well beyond spear range. Kasau turned and made eye contact first with Husam, and then with Tembo.
‘Why are you still holding spears?’ he asked, his soft voice dangerous and his strange eyes flashing with anger. ‘We could have brought that dragon down there and then. Don’t you want to be rich? The stakes just increased. Instead of one rare dragon, we’re now hunting two.’
‘But the dusk dragon has a rider . . .’
‘As does the dawn dragon. Did that stop us? Are you blind? The dusk dragon’s rider is also very young. The dusk dragon enclave is thousands of leagues away. What are the odds that she’s already been there and back? Virtually nil. That means both riders are unknown to their enclaves. The risks involved in hunting two dragons are little greater than in hunting one. What were you thinking of?’
Neither Husam nor Tembo answered, but both had similar thoughts. Yes, the stakes were greater, but so was their unease with Kasau’s leadership. He was hiding something. How had he known of the second dragon? Was he a shaman or a wizard? What was his secret?
Is it too late to pull out? Husam wondered to himself. But they had restrained the young dragon-rider with a view to killing his dragon. That alone was a capital offence. Now Kasau had wounded a second dragon that had a rider. They were committed. It would be best to make the kills quickly and move on before anyone discovered the truth.
The dusk dragon turned and flew back towards them, meeting up with the dawn dragon overhead, way up out of reach of any weapon.
‘Go and gather the others,’ Kasau ordered, his eyes following the path of the two dragons. ‘We need to break camp quickly. They’re heading north. There’s nothing in that direction but open savannah. The dusk dragon won’t fly far with that wound. If we ride hard, we can end this tonight.’
Fang’s roar of pain and his loss of camouflage sent fear deep into Elian’s heart. When he looked back and saw the weapon sticking out of the dragon’s thigh, his heart sank. Would Fang be able to fly?
Then they were airborne and climbing, and Elian saw Kasau with two other hunters, watching them. Even though they were a good distance away, Elian fancied he could see Kasau’s expression of frustration. As they gained height, they circled back towards the woods. They passed over the treetops safely above the reach of the most powerful of bows. As they did so, Aurora drew in alongside them and the two dragons turned north.
‘Are you all right, Elian?’
‘I’m fine, thanks, Ra,’ he thought back. ‘But Fang’s hurt. Can you tell how bad it is?’
‘It’s not good. The weapon moves in the wound with every wingbeat. He’s in a lot of pain.’
‘Is there anything we can do?’ Elian asked anxiously.
‘We? No, but there are those who can,’ Ra answered. ‘For now Fang will concentrate on getting as far from the hunters as he can. There will be time to arrange healing later.’
‘While I was escaping with Kira there was a flood of light. What did you do?’ he asked.
‘Let’s just say that I gave the hunters a glimpse of my full glory,’ Ra replied cryptically.
Hearing Ra’s thoughts was reassuring. Despite her obvious concern for Fang’s wound, she sounded unflustered. Her calm, matter-of-fact voice in his head gave Elian a warm feeling of safety, though he knew they were not out of danger yet.
The dragons beat a measured time with their wings, and the further they flew, the more Elian’s heart soared. The wind-rush in his ears and the feel of it combing his hair felt even more special today than it had on his first flight. They did not climb very high, as neither Kira nor Elian were dressed to survive the cold. It seemed to Elian that they were flying faster than they had yesterday. At their current speed he felt they should be safe from the hunters in quick time.
‘It’s a visual illusion, Elian,’ Ra explained. ‘When we were up high your field of view was far greater. Down here we cannot see as far, so the ground appears to rush past faster. We’re actually flying far slower than we did the other day.’
‘Oh, right. I see,’ Elian replied, feeling rather foolish.
After a short while he tapped Kira on the shoulder, thinking to thank her properly. She twisted to see what he wanted.
It was the first time Elian had seen Kira’s face clearly. Instantly, he realised she was a tribes-woman. Four circular white paint dots described a shallow concave arc under each of her eyes. Below the dots a diagonal slash of bright red paint ran downwards and outwards across her cheeks. Elian did not know enough about the southern tribes to identify the markings. Her thick black hair was drawn back and plaited. Deep brown eyes framed by long dark lashes regarded him with an expectant gaze.
‘Kira, I just wanted to say thank you,’ he began. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t more help. I owe you.’
‘Don’t thank me,’ she replied. ‘I didn’t want to get involved. Fang insisted. Now he’s hurt. Do you know that when your dragon is hurt, you feel his pain? I’m beginning to understand exactly what being a dragonrider means.’ Her voice held no warmth.
‘No, I didn’t know the bond worked that way. I’m sorry. Have you been with Fang long?’ Elian realised as soon the question left his lips that he was asking the obvious, and he mentally kicked himself. In her current mood, Kira’s reaction was predictable and instant.
‘What do you think?’ she snapped. ‘Do I look like I’m an old hand? If you must know, I first met with him about ten days ago.’
‘Then you are an old hand,’ Elian said, with a grin meant to disarm. ‘I only met Ra two days ago.’
Kira ignored his peace effort, her eyes going distant. Her voice was cold with bitterness as she continued. ‘I kept our bonding a secret for two days, but it couldn’t last. Eventually Fang insisted I leave to find something called the Oracle. I was three days from home when Aurora called for help. I was surprised when Fang agreed. All he’d talked about was getting to the Oracle quickly, yet as soon as Aurora called he insisted we come.’
Elian felt her accusatory gaze burning into him, but he did not want to show further weakness by looking away. Chance had brought them together. They were both facing similar challenges. A difficulty shared is more easily overcome, his mother had always said. But above all, he needed a friend now he was a long way from home.
Kira seemed full of fearless bravery and fiery, passionate emotion. Her feistiness and strength of character made the girls from his village seem meek by comparison. If he could win her friendship, she would prove a useful ally.
‘We could travel together for a while, if you like,’ he offered, working hard to keep his voice mellow and determinedly ignoring her hostility. ‘Ra and I were also on our way to see the Oracle when the hunters trapped me. Maybe we should share what we know.’
‘Really? Has Ra told you anything about the Oracle?’ she asked, her curiosity tweaked. ‘Do you know what it is?’
‘Ra did tell me a little. From what I understand, the Oracle is some sort of dragon spirit. When we meet it, the Oracle will give her – us – a mission. Apparently Ra has been preparing for this mission all her life. Once we complete it, Ra can live out the rest of her life feeling fulfilled. I imagine it’ll be the same for Fang. Does that make any sense?’
His explanation took some of the anger from Kira’s eyes. He could almost see the thought processes wh
irling through her mind.
‘Yes, I think it does. But what will we do then? What are we supposed to do when this life mission is complete?’ she asked, her tone still sour.
‘I don’t know,’ Elian admitted. ‘I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I intend to concentrate on one thing at a time. Get the mission out of the way, then—’
‘Of course, we have to reach the Oracle first,’ Kira snapped. She looked down meaningfully and Elian automatically followed her gaze to the spear. ‘He’s bleeding badly and the effort of carrying two is tiring him fast. We’ll have to land soon.’
‘If we could just find some broadleaf rockcrop,’ Elian said thoughtfully. ‘The juice of the leaves helps stop bleeding. It works with people, so I assume it’ll work with dragons. If we can find something to numb the pain as well . . .’
‘Broadleaf rockcrop?’ she asked. ‘What does it look like?’
‘At this height, we’d never spot it. When we land I’ll take Ra and look for some. It’s a common plant and it’s a good time of year for it. We should be able to find it.
‘Ra, are you familiar with this plant?’
Elian did his best to conjure up as vivid an image as he could in his mind.
‘Dragons have little time for plant life, Elian,’ Ra replied, sounding genuinely insulted by his suggestion. ‘I might take a second glance at a large bush if I thought it was concealing prey, but I generally leave the green stuff for those at the lower end of the food chain.’
Elian smiled at her phrasing, but discarded any thoughts of sending her down to low level to search on her own. He did not want to upset her. Instead he concentrated on looking ahead at the landscape.
Ideally, he would love to have seen a natural barrier like the Haleen Rift Valley with its great escarpment to put between them and the hunters, but the land ahead was flat, open savannah. There were the purple hints of mountains in the far distance to their right, but Fang was in no fit state to fly so far.
The brave dragon flew on for over two hours before beginning his descent. Ra had spotted a water hole ahead, and told Fang to land. She judged they had travelled far enough to render another attack unlikely today.
Side by side, the dragons descended in a shallow glide and landed near the water’s edge. There were a few scrubby bushes, but unlike their last stop there were no trees for enemies to hide in. The long grass of the savannah concealed many predators and game, but there were no signs of human life.
Any predators would keep their distance from the dragons. They were safe – for now.
Chapter Nine
Fish on a Hook
How many days had it been? Six? Seven? Nolita had lost count, but she knew that unless she got lucky, she would not survive much longer. Although she was reasonable at the basics of woodcraft – she could build shelters and light fires – she had never been good at hunting. Now her belly ached for food and her limbs felt weak.
Edible plantlife was not easy to find in the forest. Berries and nuts would not come into season for some time yet, and there was little else apart from fungi. But she was wary of eating any mushrooms. A boy in the village had nearly died the previous year after mistakenly eating a poisonous variety. Her best chance of finding food was to make a kill, but so far she had enjoyed no luck.
She made a portable trap that she set every night, but no animal had been foolish enough to step into it. Her brother was an expert at setting traps and snares, but Nolita had never worked out what he did to gain such consistent success. If she were to stay in one place for more than a night, then she could set more snares and build more traps, but she had been forced to keep on the move. IT had been following her.
At first she had thought it was her overactive imagination at work, but then the beast had spoken in her mind again and she knew for certain that it had not given up. How it was following her was not clear. Surely it was impossible for it to see her through the thick tree canopy, yet somehow it had found her every day and plagued her mind with its soft voice and its cajoling words.
Nolita was descending a steep slope, pondering different ways she might shake the beast from her trail. The footing was slippery and dangerous. Her head and eyes were fixed downwards on the ground immediately ahead when a snarling noise stopped her in her tracks. There was no mistaking the sound. Legs frozen in place, she raised her head slowly and met the eyes of the wolf. It was no more than a dozen paces away. Its body was dipped forwards on its extended front legs, and its hackles were up as it deepened its snarl into a rich, throaty growl.
With a great effort of will, Nolita broke eye contact with it and flicked her gaze around to see if any more were lurking nearby. It appeared to be alone. Relief warmed her as she met its intent stare again. A lone wolf was dangerous, but not as dangerous as a hunting pack. Her stomach fluttered with fear, but it was nothing compared to the terror that had consistently haunted her for the last few days.
Under different circumstances Nolita might have tried to run, but she knew that to do so would likely provoke an attack. A wolf’s killing tactic was normally to hamstring its victim as it ran. Having immobilised its prey it would then go for the throat. By standing her ground, the wolf would be forced to think twice about attacking.
Nolita slowly moved her right hand until it rested on the handle of her belt knife. The wolf’s growl deepened still further and its body weaved on the spot as it threatened to leap forwards. She drew her blade, the bright flash of steel strengthening her feeling of control over the situation.
‘Leave me alone,’ she said aloud. The words had no confidence in them, but to her surprise they had the desired effect. The wolf gave one final snarl, then turned and trotted away across the slope. ‘I suppose there must be plenty of easier game out here,’ Nolita muttered. ‘I just wish I could hunt well enough to be so choosy.’
‘That was bravely done, Nolita. Come to me and you’ll not have to worry about wolves or hunting. No predator will dare threaten you with me around and I’ll bring you meat to eat whenever you want it. I’m a very accomplished hunter.’
‘Gods, no!’ she exclaimed, instantly beginning to skip down the steep hillside at a speed that she would never normally attempt. ‘Not again!’ she muttered in terror. ‘How do you keep finding me?’
‘We are bonded. I’m drawn to you. It is our destiny to be together.’
For a moment Nolita was speechless. The last thing she had expected was an answer. How had it heard what she had said? She had barely breathed the question. It was impossible. She skidded to a stop against a thick tree trunk.
‘What if I don’t want to be bonded?’ she asked more loudly, forcing herself to look up at the tree-tops to see if she could see any sign of the beast overhead.
‘You have no choice. I have no choice. It is our destiny. I don’t know why. It just is. Please don’t be afraid. I intend you no harm. I am Firestorm, your dragon.’
A towering wall of fear was forming again. Was there no escape? ‘There are always choices,’ she shouted, trying to use her anger and feelings of violation as a focus to overcome the terror that threatened to crush her chest. ‘I don’t want any part of your destiny! I control my life. Me! Not you. Not my mother. Not destiny. Me. I don’t want any part of you, beast. Go! Leave me alone.’
‘You cannot turn me aside like you did the wolf, Nolita. We must go together. The Oracle is calling. It is our time.’
‘There is no “we”, do you hear? I’ll never go anywhere with you.’
Sobs of fear and anger ripped through Nolita. She pushed away from the tree to begin skipping and galloping downwards, using gravity to lend her energy. Teetering on the edge of control she fended off saplings and swung under low branches. Her legs felt heavy and wooden as she reached the bottom of the wooded valley. Running here was impossible. Nolita did not have the strength left, but she gritted her teeth and staggered onwards as fast as she could.
With tears streaking her cheeks, Nolita managed no more than a hundred paces befo
re she was forced to slow. Time blurred the following hour into a seemingly endless alternation between walking and a stumbling jog. For all she could remember, Nolita could have been running minutes, hours, or days.
It was the sound of running water that brought her back to her senses. The instant she heard the bubbling song of the stream, Nolita was gripped by an overwhelming urge to wash. She had no soap, but that was not important. It was the process: the feel of water, the rubbing, the motion and the sensation of cleanliness. The ritual would help bring her out of the darkness.
The sound was not difficult to trace, for it was a large stream. With grateful sobs of relief, Nolita staggered to the mossy bank and fell to her knees. She drove her hands into the water and began to scrub frantically at her palms and fingers. With methodical diligence and broken fingernails she rubbed and scratched at the ingrained dirt. She washed and washed until her hands were frozen and shrivelled. Then she leaned over the edge of the stream and dipped her head into the chill water. The cold took her breath away, but she did not flinch. With vigorous thoroughness she washed her scalp, hair and face.
The cold water and the familiar ritual calmed her. As she leaned back to squeeze the water from her hair, her eyes automatically followed a fish darting through the pool and across to hide under the far bank. A horrible thought struck her. She was like a fish on a hook. She could run until she was unable to run any more, but the invisible line tying her to the beast would still be there. Unless she could break the link somehow, the beast would eventually drag her in. The calm that had settled over her shattered like smashed ice.
‘There’s got to be a way out. There’s just got to be,’ she whispered.
Chapter Ten
Through the Gateway
Elian dismounted, removed his heavy jacket and hat, and went off to search out the broadleaf rock-crop. It did not take him long to find an armload of the fleshy leaves. When he returned, Kira was staring at Fang’s wound, furious.
