They stacked their river stones inside. Usually Mum did not allow it, hating the clutter. But the rules relaxed themselves these days.
Thaydra slept quietly in the back. Blaze and Nyra whispered to each other.
“Five stones,” said Blaze. “And one more.”
“You won’t make it,” warned Nyra.
“Yes, I will. I have a good one, it’s really flat.”
The clinks of stones were soothing. Only Nyra’s mind buzzed noisily, toiling with a thousand questions. Who would be left after tomorrow night? No one knew who would succeed and who would be captured. Suppose both Aunt Dewep and Uncle Thistle got away? Emdu and Jesoam would be living with Thaydra until their parents returned (one of many arrangements made by the Agrings).
And who would do all the fishing once they left? Work would be much, much harder with fewer fliers. Perhaps she and her brother could offer their services. They were awful, but she and Blaze could be decent with practice. Yes, very decent, she thought. Great, in fact.
A funny warmth spread in Nyra’s belly. Suppose she and Blaze became the most vital Fishers in the colony? The Agrings would be grateful for having their workload alleviated. She could teach her cousins. And then there was Opalheart, who was always enthusiastic about everything. He’d become good, he’d already learned a little. And he’d teach his colony. The Sperks would become self-sufficient, appreciating the Agrings’ efforts more and more. The enslavers would come to understand the poor Agrings. The two would at last see eye to eye, with only Darkmoon soured in the lonely corner of his own malice. By the time Aunt Dewep, Uncle Thistle, and the other escapees returned with Zealers, Darkmoon would be overthrown.
“Oh, Good Light, that would never, ever happen,” said Blaze, jerking Nyra out of the fantasy.
“Huh?” she said, confused.
“You. Thinking out loud again.”
“Oh.”
Bored with stacking, they drew on the den’s floor. Nyra had no clever ideas and illustrated circles inside circles, all of which were crooked. Things were quiet for awhile, save for the gentle scratching.
“Nyra? Blaze?” Thaydra’s voice was almost inaudible from her resting spot. She did not sound groggy with sleep.
“Yes?” they said together. Neither looked up.
Mother paused, long and without breath. Nyra and Blaze stopped drawing. Finally, Thaydra exhaled.
“Have you thought of leaving?”
Blaze sat up. “What?” he asked.
“Escaping,” said Thaydra. “Have you two given any thought to going with the others?”
A stoic look crossed Blaze, and his mouth parted slightly. Thaydra was a dark outline, shadowed farthest from the moonbeam at the den’s congested entrance. Only Mother’s eyes caught a trickle of light. They gleamed with wetness. Thaydra had not been sleeping at all.
“What’s the matter, Mum?” Nyra said, the foreign taste of concern on her tongue.
“You could do it, you know,” Thaydra said sadly. “You could make it.”
“We can’t fly, Mum,” said Blaze. He drew towards his mother carefully, like he was coaxing someone from the cliff edge.
“But you can,” she said, rising to all fours. “It’s just a matter of instinct. You could do it. If Nyra had been given the chance last month, she could have flown out to sea. It’s these rules that stop us!” She thrashed her tail. “Darkmoon says we need training, but it’s a lie. In the old days, Agrings were flying at age ten. And your instincts haven’t forgotten it. Flying is easy. Ask any adult. We wanted to spring into the sky as younglings, only we had to undergo long lectures first, tricks in theory and not practice. Lessons do nothing but waste our time and muscle. The Sperks’ time too, considering how badly they want us out there fishing.”
Her voice dripped vindictively. “But Sperks enforce training to make it seem complex. It’s more complicated of course. It’s a blessing, really, that you are given time. But you don’t need it…” she trailed off.
“Mum, please stop,” Blaze said, close to tears.
“You’d be fine. You could go with the rest of them. You don’t need me. The others would take care of you and lead the way.” Thaydra jumped emphatically, standing on her claw tips as though struck by lightning.
“You must do it,” she said firmly. Unblinking, she fixed the dragglings with a ferocity she usually saved for Tesset.
“Why are you saying this now? What’s going on?” Blaze shouted. Nyra winced, glancing at the den entrance.
“I don’t know!” Thaydra wailed, slumping like a dying flower. She swung away to the back wall, shivering.
“Too loud!” Nyra warned. Blaze looked horrified. They stared across the wide void that separated them from their mother, unsure if whether or not to cross. Thaydra embodied a dark beast, like the mindless villains of night tales, driven by insanity. But this was not a tale. Nor was Thaydra like the regular characters Nyra had long learned. Mother was above it all, above fear.
Could Mother have fear? No, thought Nyra. Anger here and there, but not fear.
“You should go tomorrow,” Thaydra whispered, speaking towards the wall.
“We can’t go,” Blaze broke.
Thaydra shook her head.
“We can’t,” Nyra heard herself say. Her throat was thick, and she struggled to keep her voice steady.
Blaze crossed the void. He came up to Thaydra and nuzzled beneath her lonely right wing, peeking out beneath the black leather and ivory clawed thumb.
“Sun Fire would have wanted us together,” he said. “And Blazing Fire would have wanted me protected. Mum and Dada wanted me with you, Mum. You and Nyra. So that’s where I’ll stay.”
Thaydra crumpled into sobs, and collapsed at her step-son’s side, wrapping her wing tightly around him. Blaze gripped her tightly in his claws, shaking.
“Come, Little Shadow,” Thaydra croaked, forehead pressed against Blaze’s.
Nyra loped forward, her nose stinging more than ever. She nudged beneath Thaydra’s leathery membranes, squeezing between the bony tips and her brother’s smaller, nearly mature wings.
Safe. Together. Never so strongly had Nyra wanted this closeness to last for all time.
That fateful evening arrived.
“When, Mum?” said Blaze.
Gloomy clouds congested the skies again. They’d not left since the previous night. Blankets of darker and darker gray pressed over the Northern Coast, blocking out the moons. Roendon was turning his great blackish back to them, unable to see the happenings below.
Even the deities don’t want to see, Nyra thought.
“Shhhh,” Thaydra hushed softly. She did not stir as she stared out of the den, her back turned in the same way Nyra imaged Roendon to the Northern Coast. Mum was in ‘mission mode,’ or so the draggling would have said any other day. Tonight was far too severe for silly names.
For about an hour Thaydra waited like this. What she watched for was unclear, for Thaydra would hush all questions. Maybe there was a signal. Maybe Mum was straining to see through the clouds, to spot the exact position of the moons.
Finally she spoke.
“It’s time.”
Nyra became rigid. Blaze gave a short gasp.
Thaydra turned her head slightly, out of Nyra’s sight. Hungrily, the draggling craved to see more of Mother, to see some concise hint to her guardian’s inner tinkering. She wanted Mother to look at her as much as she wanted to see tonight’s fire.
But which one more?
“Mum?” Nyra quaked.
“Remember,” interrupted Thaydra. “You will hear things. But you will not come outside.” This was not like arriving late to the Dam, or failing to come home in time for meals. Just as rocks were hard and skies were blue, Blaze and Nyra were to mind.
“Understood?”
“Yes,” they said together.
Thaydra shut her eyes.
“All my love to you,” she said, words whispered through a cavernous exhale.
&nb
sp; Changes were coming so fast. Too fast. How long ago had she and Blaze been catching fish at the Dam? When had Darkmoon caught them at the cliff edge? Was it not yesterday when she toddled the grasses, their blades tickling a snout which had not yet grown long?
Gripping the ground, Nyra’s paws smarted. Stop, she thought. Stop time, in the same way she stood still now. This night was like a tale with a gap, a flagrant plot-hole the storyteller refused to correct, while the listener pieced together the broken fragments. There was a piece missing now, from life; the piece where Nyra experienced the last moment of normalcy and drank the familiar scents of routine.
But her earnest paws, so believing, so steadfast, were merely the flats which held her still. And just as Thaydra lifted from her frozen stance, she, the bravest dragon in the herd, whisked up and out into the blanketed night.
The dragglings bounded to the entrance in a single hop, filling the vacant space. Still warm. Nyra could taste the remnants of Mother’s breath.
Thaydra went out of sight, her footfalls padding mutedly over the dragglings’ heads. Then they ceased. Safe underground, the dragglings waited for sound, silence suffocating their fragile patience.
A cough muffled through, and a scratchy groan cycled in the darkness.
“Stay!” came a Sperk’s voice from afar. Female, and Nyra had a good guess of whom. Nyra cocked her ears, trying to detect the large thuds growing louder. Brushstrokes in her imagination painted a great blue beast lumbering forward, her mother’s head held high, sniffing back invented drainage.
“Casstooth,” Thaydra rasped. A sigh escaped her, like one relieved.
“Intentions?” came the Sperk’s testy reply. “The curfew began hours ago. Or has the overcast clouded your judgment?”
Thaydra laughed hoarsely. “Oh, my darling, you sound like Darkmoon. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Mind yourself, Agring,” barked Casstooth. Nyra pictured the Sperk shoving her nose against Thaydra’s.
“Steady down there, youngling,” Thaydra sang. She coughed again. “You’ll catch a cold.”
“Cold?” said Casstooth, disbelieving.
Thaydra cleared her throat. “Yes. That’s why I’m up. Requesting permission to visit ol’ Fitzer?”
“I think not,” said Casstooth.
“Oh?”
“Swallow it up, Thaydra. You can wallow in your own sick, see if I care.”
“Ah ha!” said Thaydra, a smile in her voice. “That’s the informality I’m looking for. More your age. It suits you.”
Casstooth huffed.
“Darkmoon hates unhealthy workers,” Thaydra said, serious now. “I’ve been waking the children, and I don’t want them coming down with anything. I’m coughed-out raw. Parched. My throat’s blood red, if you’d care to look.” Thaydra was no doubt offering her mouth.
“Oh Quay, Thaydra!” Casstooth whined. A vociferous snort made the Sperk pound the ground, rattling dust upon the dragglings’ ears.
“See?” Thaydra wheezed.
Behind Nyra were the odds and ends of Mother’s dinner; a fish she did not eat. The soft abdomen was torn open, yellow ooze pooling out.
Fish oil was indeed gross-looking.
“Oh, just go,” resigned the Sperk. “I’ll be watching until you meet up with Opalheart. He’s guarding the Reservoir tonight.”
“You are most charitable,” said Thaydra.
Casstooth huffed once more.
Everything went quiet. Nyra wondered if Casstooth was still above, watching Thaydra walk off. Nyra listened for foot falls, but none came. Perhaps the Sperk had already left, and the dragglings were alone.
But we aren’t alone, Nyra remembered. Not at all. In fact, she expected the whole herd was awake just like them, poised inside their burrows. Rovavik and his son Vor were probably flexing their wings. Aunt Dewep would be fawning over Jesoam and Emdu, promising a hasty return. Not even sleepy Grandma Tega would be resting this night.
And it was starting just by the Reservoir. Seconds from now, the fields would be teeming with angry flames. Wings would beat the thickening air, faster and faster, until the Agrings became distant specks above the horizon’s mysterious Green Spot.
Nyra was to behold none of it.
“But maybe just a peek,” she said out loud. Leaving her brother, she went to the back. Stepping over the smelly fish, she found the dirt pile aside the tunnel leading to Fuhorn’s den.
If it could hide an entrance, it could hide her, too.
“What are you doing?” said Blaze quickly.
The red draggling did not reply. Instead, she thumped upon the pile, collapsing the neat, pointy triangle into a concave bend.
“Hey stop! I made that!”
Nyra sneezed. “How else will I disguise myself?”
“Disguise yourself—” his eyes widened, understanding. “Oh, take a break, Nyra!”
“You want to see it too,” Nyra said, rolling about. Little grains stuck to her face. She was now caked in umber, save for a few patches of red skin poking through.
“That’s got to be the worst disguise I’ve ever seen,” said Blaze.
“Mum said we are not to leave,” she said, licking a red patch on her elbow. She ground it in the pile until it came up dark brown. “I’m not going to go all the way outside. Just gonna poke my head out. Enough to see the fire, then I’ll come back in.”
“Did you like working all week? Will you ever listen to Mum?”
“It’s a peek. I’m not going to get caught,” Nyra said.
“I’ve heard that before.”
Nyra was in too much haste to argue, but made a mental note to do it later. The great outside was calling.
“So,” she said, turning to Blaze. “Aren’t you coming?”
He let out a long sigh, nodding.
“Aren’t you going to…” she trailed off, pointing to the pile.
“I’m not bright red,” Blaze grunted. “I was born to be in disguise.”
Nyra groaned.
They crawled out just enough to see the jut of the cliff. Not one star cut through the hazy blur above. The sky was far closer than it should be, still thick with low hanging clouds. It made Nyra feel trapped.
Many tail lengths away stood Casstooth, out of hearing range. The Sperk scratched at the ground, loitering near Tesset’s. Nyra thought of Aisel and Fidee fretting beneath the surface. Thaydra was completely gone, surely at the Reservoir by now.
Nyra tried to spot shapes moving by the Dam area. But she couldn’t even see the gentle slopes of the hills.
She’d have to wait for the fire.
“This is pointless,” whispered Blaze. He looked blankly out towards the Dam.
“It’s not pointless,” Nyra hissed. “We’ll see the sparks when they come. Don’t you want that?”
“Nyra, how do you even know they’re coming from that direction?”
“Mum said she was going to the Reservoir.”
“Yes, but who said she was staying there? I doubt she’d start up right where Casstooth expects her to be. Mum’s somewhere completely different by now.”
“Casstooth isn’t even paying attention,” Nyra said. The guard had moved on to twiddling grass.
Blaze moaned. “Doesn’t matter. We shouldn’t be disobeying like this.”
Nyra ignored him, edging out further.
“Won’t be much longer now,” she assured.
“Longer until what?”
“Fire!” Was that not obvious?
“The fire. Is that all you can think about?” sniffed Blaze. His eyes were shimmering.
Worry intruded on Nyra’s annoyance. She huddled down a little. “What are you thinking about?”
“Us leaving.”
“What?” she said too loudly. Jumping out of her crouch, she reeled angrily upon her brother. “You want to leave tonight?”
“No,” he said. He didn’t react to her rising voice. “I was thinking about Mum wanting us to leave.”
“
What about it?” Nyra asked.
“Well,” said Blaze, shuffling, “she so badly wanted us out of here. At first I thought it was just her getting caught up in the emotion. But now I don’t think that’s it.”
“Then why did she want us to go?” Nyra said, pained and desperate.
Somber phantoms swam through Blaze’s eyes. It wasn’t the face she knew well, that fretted over (what she deemed as) silly curiosities. Yet it was unmistakable. It was one she had pictured in stories. During the story of Dada’s death, it had raked upon Thaydra’s face. In the story of the first escape attempt, Nyra had pictured it on Fuhorn, watching her eldest son crash to the seas.
On Blazing Fire’s face was grief.
He took in a breath—
“Inside.”
The voice was not Blaze’s. It mingled foreignly with his opening mouth. Blaze was never getting to finish his thoughts these days.
Nyra turned around. Though dark, the figure above was perfectly clear.
“Hi, Casstooth,” Nyra said stupidly.
“Heredity prevails,” fumed the Sperk. Indeed, she liked to copy Darkmoon.
Nyra gaped accordingly, Blaze’s sad face still printed on her mind.
Casstooth stamped. “Do you have dirt in your ears, too? I said inside!”
Nyra shook her head.
“Why the insouciance?” Casstooth’s mouth was clenched. Nyra didn’t know what the guard meant, and assumed Casstooth was inventing words purely for confusion’s sake.
“Mum’s really sick,” Blaze offered.
“Uh-huh. We’re worried about her,” Nyra lied, before realizing it wasn’t a lie at all.
Casstooth’s jaw loosened from its horrible hinges.
“Oh,” said the Sperk.
“She’s been coughing all night,” Blaze continued. “And she’s not sick like this very often.”
The Waters of Nyra- Volume I Page 12
