With a shift of Rue’s leg, I tucked my wings and dropped like an arrow.
I could feel the dragon arches rather than see them and at this speed, if we hit the walls, we were dead. Rue held his breath and tucked deeply into me as I folded my wings over him. Swiftly and silently, we swept in through one of the arches, my tail following my body perfectly as I followed the curve of the walls. My wings opened enough to keep us aloft, all in utter silence. Skilfully, I circled the Landing, my tail not even brushing the many horned skulls along the walls. Once again, I remembered my nights in the blackness of the Crown, sweeping over the throngs of spectators but avoiding the mesh that protected them.
Rue leaned, indicating we should leave. It was achievement enough to simply have made it in and then out. I ignored his leaning, however, for there was something on the floor.
No one in the room at all; not a centurion, not a guard. It was empty and black as the pitch from Allum’s ovens but still I could see with my night-dragon eyes the beautiful mosaic of glass and stone, the history of dragon riders throughout the centuries. In the center of this beautiful floor lay Plinius’ cane.
Rue dug his heel into my shoulder but I leaned away, diving silently downwards, wings back, talons reaching. Down, down and down I went and with barely a scratch of my claws on the stone, the cane was mine. Now, I brought down my wings in a powerful stroke, soaring upwards, seeing clearly the stars through the dragon arches. Within two heartbeats, I was outside and into the night once again.
So sleek, I thought to myself. So deadly. Poor Plinius would beg for his cane back. I would not roast this one. No, I would keep it until he begged.
And so it was with this attitude of self-importance that Rue and I returned to the Torrent aviary, only to find it empty of dragons, save one.
Ironwing, the silver drake, was stretched out in my nest, his wing-talons crossed elegantly in front of him.
And around a firepit circle at the centre, two men were playing dice. One was in silver armour.
They both looked up as we peered down from the ledge.
“Well, come in Rue Solus,” said Dragon Master Plinius. “Come in, Night Dragon. And bring my cane with you, if you please.”
Chapter 20
THE SHADOW FLIGHT
“The Night Dragon and his soul-boy,” said Plinius as he approached. “I am impressed, Cirrus. I will gladly refund you your coin.”
Rue slid from my back, but kept one hand on my shoulder. I could feel his knees shaking as he bent down to slide the cane from my talons. He did not pass it over but gripped it tightly, twisting it in his trembling hands.
“Forgive me, Dragon Master,” he said. “I was…I was…”
His words failed him and for some reason, so did my victory.
“You were proud,” said the wrinkly man. “A Flight Rider needs to be proud.”
“Of himself and his dragon,” added Cassien Cirrus.
The rider rose to his feet, slipped the dice into his silver pocket.
“Do you know what they want of you, Rue Solus?” asked Plinius. “What they want of your night dragon?”
“No, Dragon Master. But I can guess.”
“It won’t be easy.”
“Our lives have never been easy,” said Rue. “He’s been a fisher dragon and a farm dragon. He’s been a pit dragon and a Flight dragon. There is no dragon in the Empire that can do what you’re wanting. None except him.”
“The Lamoan drakina will be well guarded,” said Cirrus. “It won’t be as easy as taking the Dragon Master’s cane.”
“It was just laying there in plain view,” said Rue and he held it out.
Plinius took it.
“The cane,” he said. “Was not guarded.”
“You knew we would come for it. They won’t expect us to come for the drakina like that.”
“We knew,” said Plinius and he leaned forward on his cane. “Because we were told.”
Rue glanced up sharply.
“We are a nation at war,” said the wrinkly man. “There are espionars everywhere.”
“Every man is a soldier,” said Cirrus. “As is every woman.”
There was only the hiss of the night wind.
“Galla,” Rue whispered.
“Galla is a soldier,” said Cirrus. “You need to think like one. You and your dragon both.”
“Flight Riders live to serve,” said Plinius. “Likewise their dragons. How do you think we got your dragon here in the first place?”
“Aryss?” said Rue.
The thoughts came together in my mind like storm clouds. Aryss in my mountain den, blood on her wing. Proud, defiant, warm and gold.
“She’s a remarkable drakina,” said Plinius. “Very clever, very intelligent. Not many could be trusted to return once they’ve tasted freedom like that.”
A sweet, golden lemonwhite for a lonely night dragon.
“Cirrus knew our night dragon would find himself a lair. She tracked him, baited him and brought him in.”
Because of her, I found the first of the Draco Curantora, the tower and after that, Rue.
And after Rue, the Citadel.
It had been a clever plan and I had played my part, to the beat.
“I’m sorry, Night Dragon,” said Plinius. “But we needed you.”
Vanity and pride. Lure them with gold, catch them with ego. Dragons are a predictable people.
“And me?” asked Rue and he turned to the silver rider. “Did you ‘need’ me too?”
Cirrus sighed, folded his arms across his chest.
Rue was quiet for a long moment.
“We can do this,” he said finally. “At least let us try.”
“My Flight is leaving for Terra Remus at dawn,” said Cirrus. “We’ve been commissioned by the Imperator to find the Lamoan drakina but she’s in Nathens, their capital city. Even if they send one hundred dragons, none will make it through alive because of their cannons. But you can. I know you can. You can end this war before it has even begun. And that’s where the problem lies.”
He sighed again. The silver drake on my nest grumbled. Almost as one.
“After the massacre in the Crown, the Emperor put a price on Stormfall’s head,” he went on. “My Flight isn’t convinced that we can get into and out of the capital without paying it, maybe in blood. They don’t want you, but they don’t know you. They don’t know what you can do. They think you’re wild and unpredictable, that you’ll be more of a problem than a solution.”
He stepped forward now, laid a hand on my neck and for once, the silver drake did not growl. My heart swelled with pride.
“I’ve seen Stormfall at work,” he said. “In the Crown and on the water. Ironwing and I would be dead if it weren’t for him.”
Pride, pride, always pride.
I should have learned by now. I should have known.
“We need you, Night Dragon. Our nation needs you. I believe that is why you were born a Night Dragon, to do what no other dragon can do.”
He looked at Rue now, knees still shaking. Still a boy.
Cirrus grinned flatly.
“You have my favour to join us, Rue Solus. But first, you must convince my Flight tonight. There’s no guarantee that you won’t be killed if you come but come anyway. If you succeed, then we fly to Terra Remus where we meet the Emperor’s Legion. There’s also no guarantee that you won’t be killed and Stormfall’s head set up on the marble walls as retribution. There’s even less of a guarantee that you will be chosen for this commission and finally, if you are chosen, there is almost no chance of either of you coming back.”
Rue looked at the ground. I could see the muscles in his jaw twitching. So controlled. So restrained. So unlike me.
“We’re leaving at dawn,” said Cirrus. “But tonight, we’ll be camped at Tarren’s Duct. You know where it is?”
Rue nodded.
“There will be three dragons besides Ironwing. Show them what you can do. Impress them with your skill in the
night. Hunt, catch them, terrify them, I don’t care what you do but don’t kill. They think you are Warblood, Jewel of the Crown. Prove to them that you’re not. Prove to them that you can do what we cannot.”
And with a shake of his silver spines, Ironwing left my nest for Cirrus’ side. For such a large dragon, he moved with such grace, such elegance, like smoke. The rider slipped his foot in the stirrup and in a heartbeat, was up. The drake spread wide his wings.
“But this is not Stormfall’s fight,” he called from Ironwing’s back. “This isn’t really yours either, Rue. You are both free to decide. Ruminor smiles on whom He chooses and we do what we can with the rest.”
The first wing beat almost blew the wrinkly man over. The second had them halfway up the spire, at the third they were out the large dragon arch into the night sky.
Plinius watched him go, before turning to us one last time. His skin looked like parchment.
“It has been a privilege to know you, Rue Solus,” he said. “And a pleasure to meet this wonderful Night Dragon. I hope we will meet again in the afterlife. I will drink to your health and you will drink to mine.”
He caressed my cheek as one might stroke a child, his eyes shining like tiny pebbles.
“I should not have hit you with my cane,” he said softly. “I regret that. My new cane isn’t nearly as nice.”
He threw a glance at Rue.
“I can’t speak for Ruminor. If you succeed, He might just give you your soul back. But then again, He might not…”
He picked up his lantern and shuffled out the door, the cane making quiet tapping sounds on the floor. He was swallowed by the darkness in a heartbeat.
Rue watched him go, did not move for some time.
“I need you to remain Stormfall,” he finally whispered in the firelight. “No matter what happens, please stay Stormfall.”
He didn’t know what he was asking.
He stood until his knees got the better of him and he buckled to the floor beside me.
***
There were no moons to guide me. No Winking Eyes of my father, Draco Stellorum. I didn’t need him. Tonight I was the night. Tonight I was the darkness.
Impress them with your skill, Cirrus had said.
I was sad when I left the Torrent aviary, a place where I had learned to enjoy the touch of sticks. I was sadder still when I left the Citadel, the last landing stone streaking below me like a fading memory. Sadness and fear, leaving this place of purpose and nobility behind; war before me, my path stained with blood. My heart was racing, too fast, too strong, to the beat of my wings.
Hunt, catch them, terrify them, I don’t care what you do but don’t kill.
Blackness in my wings and death at my claws.
Please stay Stormfall.
He didn’t know what he was asking. None of them did.
They think you are Warblood, Jewel of the Crown.
This wasn’t my fight. This wasn’t my war.
War meant blood.
Please stay Stormfall.
I ached for Rue as we left his words behind in the aviary.
Stroke by stroke, I left Stormfall behind and stroke by stroke, put on the mantle of Warblood, undefeated Jewel of the Crown of Salernum, Killer of Dragons and Men.
Prove to them that you’re not.
I couldn’t kill them.
Warblood would try.
Blackness in my wings and death at my claws.
Stormfall would stop him.
“No thinking,” Rue hissed over the night wind. “Riders can hear your thoughts like Hell Down.”
I tried to quiet my mind. It is hard for a dragon of my intelligence and imagination to be quiet, especially when the blood is hot and the acid scalds the back of your throat.
I was the Night Dragon.
Blackness in my wings and death at my claws.
Bonesnap, I thought to myself and I sifted the air for dragons on the wind. “Hush, Stormfall. Your thoughts.”
Show them what you can do.
Back to the fire. I could land quietly. I could grab one or none or all. I could sweep between them and scatter the ash up to the night. There were many, many strategies for proving myself and I wanted to know what he wanted of me, for I could do all of it or none.
Truthfully, I would be just as happy to veer north and let the earth force take me home.
I could see them sitting around a fire beneath a towering aqueduct. Sticks were always sitting around fires and I realized that they coveted fire. It was why they subjugated dragons, the bringers of it.
“Don’t kill,” he whispered. “Take one, release him into the sky then take another.”
I recognized Ironwing immediately. I had saved his life. He had spared mine. We were equals and I found a measure of satisfaction in that. But there was another and it struck me like an arrow in the heart.
Aryss.
Vanity and pride. Lure them with gold, catch them with ego.
Like a spear, I tucked my wings and dove.
Four dragons dozing in the darkness, one raising his gray head to yawn. I caught his face in my talons and beat down my wings, rising us both up, up, up. He was heavy but surprised and swung his back end, his tail lashing and feet raking only air. When he called his fire, I was gone, releasing him and disappearing into the black sky like a wraith. I arced and dove again, but this time they were waiting for me – the men on their feet, the dragons with wings wide. But it was dark and I was the night and I caught a gold drake by the saddle, rose into the air with him even as he beat against me. I wouldn’t hurt him, I told myself, though the blood was hot in my veins. I felt the saddle creak as I flung him overhead and whirled, releasing him to dive again.
Aryss next. I caught her by the back of the neck, taking her up, up, up into the starry sky before a blast of fire licked at my tail.
On my back, Rue stayed low, gripping my neck and allowing me my head. Three dragons in the air now and I dodged between them all. Fire lit up the night but I was a ghost silhouetted against the flames, wheeling and snapping and whipping my tail so that I had touched every dragon save Ironwing and left them living.
Perhaps Stormfall had flown with us still.
“Release and down,” cried Rue and I obeyed, dropping to the fire with almost no sound. The dragons rushed to land, forming a circle around me with their wings.
Rue sprang from my back as swords and arrows were brought to bear but the great silver drake rose onto his back legs, lighting up the sky with his powerful flames. The riders stepped back as Cassien Cirrus strode into the circle.
“Peace,” he barked. “Flight, stand down.”
“That was madness!” shouted Galla, her sword flashing in the firelight.
“Insubordination!” shouted the rider of the steel grey. “Cirrus, we should kill them both for that!”
“Did you hear them?” Cirrus he spread wide his arms. “Did any of you hear them at all?”
“It doesn’t matter—”
“But it is the only thing that does matter,” he said. “None of us heard either sound or thought. They were silent as night.”
Rue said nothing, merely looked at the ground.
“Three Flight dragons,” Cirrus continued. “Taken like fish from the ocean before any of you even knew what was happening. That is what we need for Lamos. That is how we take the drakina.”
The first colour of dawn glowed over the mountains. The fire crackled and spat ash into the early morning sky. The dragons snarled but as I stood between them, unmoved and undefeated, I desperately tried not to think of what had awakened in me tonight.
“The Emperor won’t allow it,” said the rider of the grey. “He still remembers the Crown.”
“We all remember the Crown,” said another.
“This dragon has already faced Lamoan cannons,” said Cirrus.
“So have I,” said the first.
Cirrus sighed.
“We need him, Rufus. I believe it in my bones.”
&
nbsp; The riders stood for a long moment before the first slid the short sword into the scabbard at his hip.
“Ruminor have mercy on you, Cirrus,” said the one called Rufus. “The Emperor could have us all flayed.”
“He could, but he won’t.”
“You’re so sure of this wild dragon,” grumbled the rider of the gold drake. “And a soul-boy? How old is he? Twelve?”
“Old enough,” muttered Rue.
“Old enough to die,” said the rider. He aimed his sword at the silver rider. “This is your measure, Cirrus. We live or we die, because of you. Remember that.”
“I won’t forget,” said Cirrus.
Both riders turned and moved to their dragons. Cirrus waited a moment before nodding swiftly. He kicked snow and dirt over the small fire before approaching to his drake. That left Galla Gaius. She stood like marble, sword gleaming in the dawn’s light, long braid swaying in the night breeze.
“I’m sorry,” said Rue.
She turned her back and walked toward her drakina, speaking words of comfort and ease. Aryss perched erect, wings wide, tail lashing in the darkness. I could hear her heartbeat racing like a school of silverfins. I had terrified her. No, Warblood had terrified her. But I was Warblood and Stormfall. Both and perhaps neither.
I hated this. I hated what I had become tonight, what they wanted me to become even still. I didn’t know what they would ask of me in the coming days, but I knew that as Stormfall, I wouldn’t last.
Warblood, however, would thrive and I wrestled with the fact that I had led so many lives. Stormfall and Snake, Nightshade and Hallowdown, all preparing the way for Warblood the Undefeated, Jewel of the Crown of Salernum. I looked up to the sky. There were no moons but there were stars, scales of my father, Draco Stellorum. Always watching but never doing. Perhaps I hated him most of all.
We flew out at first light of dawn.
***
They were called the Shadow Flight. Not sanctioned, not existing, comprised only of five dragons. There were two silvers – Ironwing and Jagerstone and conversely two golds – Aryss and Chryseum. And now me. I wondered if our colours had anything to do with our selection. Surely there was more to it than that but it was curious. As you know by now, I am a curious dragon.
Dragon of Ash & Stars: The Autobiography of a Night Dragon Page 19
