"Should we go back to the entrance?" I asked.
"There's another entrance to the cave system on the far side of this ridge. It'll take us a few hours to get there. We found it by accident. One of the younglings was wandering outside, and we saw its scaly form from the sky. It roared in our direction and returned to the cave. After that, we were afraid the mother would come out and snatch us from the sky," explained Ben.
"Let me stop and take this collar off first," I said.
Ben handed me my picks. I navigated the lock by touch. After it fell off, I rubbed warmth back into my skin. The iron had transmitted the cold directly into my neck. It felt like it'd been wrapped in ice.
We reached the caves after a hike. The entrance was hidden in the scree field at the bottom of an old avalanche. The crust of the rock wall above the cave had fallen down in the distant past. The wind kept the snow from piling, and stung my exposed face.
Before we went in, Ben handed me a vial that was three-fourths full of a dark liquid. I reluctantly tucked it in my coat. He said nothing.
Ben produced a small lantern. Light glimmered off the low mist that snaked through the lower half of the cave. The air was warm, and we pulled our hoods back.
When he pulled out a pistol, I motioned for him to put it away.
We moved in relative quiet, only the occasional kicks of rock disturbing the silence. After ten minutes of moving deeper into the earth, we came across a barrier.
The cave fell away in a sheer drop. We could barely see the wall, even when we leaned over the dizzying edge. The bottom was far below the light.
"This is why the Nenet don't use this entrance," I said with a whisper, noting how the vast space swallowed my voice.
The cave was warm enough that I could hear the distant dripping of water.
"I bet your dragon friend is in here," said Ben.
"I wonder if other people's lives seem as peculiar as ours," I said.
"Sadly, most would not want this kind of life. They are born afraid and cling to those that can tell them everything's going to be safe, even when it isn't," he said.
"I've often wondered if the Enlightenment would save everyone, or are there some people incapable of being aware of their choices and the consequences of them," I said.
Ben chuckled softly. "I've had the same concerns, which is why my opinions on religions come and go as the decades pass. Sometimes I think the people need them, to keep them from descending into their feral natures, then other times, I think religions keep them from exploring the higher states of being."
"You can lead a horse to water..." I offered.
"You know I've always hated that saying," said Ben. "If the horse is thirsty and not drinking the water, you might wonder if it's poisoned."
"You're just delaying the inevitable," I said.
"Drinking the water?" he asked.
I wiped a bead of sweat from my chin. The room was damp, but a breeze kissed across my forehead in an enjoyable manner.
"No. Climbing down this cliff," I said.
"I wasn't even considering it," he said.
"Then how do we get to the dragon?" I asked.
Ben chuckled. "Sometimes, Kat, I wonder." Then he cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted into the empty space. "O' Tugain, Dragon of the Underworld, Majestic Beast, Ancient Philosopher, and otherwise Dandy Fellow, may we speak to you at length about a conundrum?"
"Dandy Fellow?" I asked.
"I panicked," he said, mirth in his voice.
The dragon startled us by speaking not but a dozen paces behind us. I had to grab Ben's sleeve as he nearly tumbled off the edge.
We moved a few steps back up the slope. Ben twisted a brass knob on the lantern, and the light flared, showing the glistening eyes of the dragon staring back at us from what was only a moment before, darkness.
"You should not have come back," said Tugain. "Despite the amusing greeting of your companion."
Black smoke leaked from the dragon's lips. The sulphurous fumes were headache inducing.
"I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I am Benjamin Franklin, inventor, philosopher, and general busybody," he said with a flourish, bowing.
Tugain sniffed. "You have the taint of sorcery on you."
"I was recently healed by a witch of uncommon power. I think she left a little of herself in me," said Ben.
"That would explain it, though it makes me less inclined to entertain your presence, since the smell is like eating too much cinnamon. It tickles the throat and nose and makes me want to cough." Tugain paused, a low rumble in her throat. "Benjamin Franklin. This is a name I have heard."
"I am quite honored to have had my name grace your wondrous ears," said Ben, adding another bow.
Sensing what Ben was trying to do, I matched his movements, feeling at once like I was back at court, despite my bulky attire.
Tugain chuckled, spoiling the mood. "Don't think I do not know what you are trying to do, though I won't complain. It's nice to have a bit of fawning and scraping before you every once in a while. But then I remember the past, when I thought to involve myself in human affairs and only came away with grievous wounds for my efforts. Despite the insignificance of your individual lives, in a mob, you can be quite dangerous, bordering plague-worthy."
"Then our simple request will not trouble you. Last time we spoke, you warned me about the creature that had sent me to"—I stumbled over the next word as I nearly said kill—"visit you. Since then I learned more about this foe of yours. It is named the Midgard Serpent, the Jörmungandr, and it is tasked with keeping me from interfering with Veles. All I ask is that you give us the spear that I left here so we might take the fight to the Jörmungandr."
The dragon's melodic voice sung through the cave as if it were made for such spaces. "Ahh...such a simple request. A spear! A spear! We will take the fight to your enemy. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Is that how you humans speak? In the end, it is all war and death. I have no desire to engage in these nihilistic fantasies."
"But you are aware of the prophecies. You know the price of doing nothing," I said forcefully.
"I am all too aware of the power of prophecy. I know better than to get involved with them. They are like quicksand. The more you struggle, the deeper you sink," said Tugain.
"Then give us the spear and let us go," I said. "You have no need to get involved."
"And one day that spear will make its way back here in the fist of a well-meaning hero wanting to make a name for himself by slaying a dragon. So it's better that this spear rots in the earth," said Tugain.
The dragon took a step forward, its scaly claw resting overtop a boulder larger than Ben and I put together. We were trapped between it and the cliff.
I only knew one answer, and it pained me to consider it. In a different time, the irony would be something to savor, but here it seemed cruel.
The dragon grumbled as it advanced. "I am very sorry for what I must do. I cannot allow you to keep coming back to my home."
With a sigh, I reluctantly pulled the vial of blood from my coat. As I uncorked it, I wondered how much I would have to drink, but decided this would be the one and only time I would use it, so I downed it.
The bitter liquid passed my lips. I had to suppress my gag reflex to keep from spitting it right back up. In my belly, the blood was surprisingly warm, as if it were alive. Remembering the red mist that had come out of the Uthlaylaa's mouth in the library, I considered that was probably true in some way.
I had no time to consider what I was supposed to do. The dragon was leaning over us, massive claw raised to strike.
"Quickly, Kat!" said Ben.
A sense of vertigo made me stumble to my knees. I felt my mind both expanding and contracting, as if it were breathing into a space it had never been before. I had a different understanding of magic in that moment, that it was a thing that bound everything together.
I remembered what I'd come to do. Talons scraped on stone. Ben shouted, his
defiance echoing into the vast space.
And then...
I was the dragon.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The overwhelming sensation of heat nearly knocked me right from Tugain's mind. It felt like I had downed a half-dozen cups of scalding hot coffee while wearing winter furs in front of a roaring hearth fire.
I panted, exhaling crackling breath, barely avoiding scorching Ben and my statuesque body in my haste to relieve the heat. But doing so did nothing. The amount of heat remained as if I carried a sun in my belly.
I tried to turn towards the entrance of the cave so I could vent into the Siberian airs, but the sudden attempt at movement made me stagger into the wall.
Wings!
Heavy, leathery wind-sails perched on my back, shifting whenever I moved, tipping me over. I stretched them out, trying to use them like a tightrope walker's pole, but they banged against the rough walls.
I stumbled around the space like a drunk, aware of Ben's shouts as he tried to protect my motionless body. I told Ben to drag me out of the way, though I wasn't sure which mouth spoke.
Once he had my body slumped against the side wall, I practiced walking up the cave's slope until I reached the cooler air. By this point, the overwhelming heat was less distracting, as if I'd gotten used to it, or it had reduced in intensity.
Huge puffs of breath shot from my mouth. As I stood in the afternoon sun, I listened for my heartbeat to find there were two beating in my chest. At first, I thought it was an echo of my body along with the dragon, but then I realized I, or the dragon, had two hearts.
Without giving it much thought, I stretched my wings and leapt into the sky. At first, I strained to beat my wings hard enough to give me lift, but then the effort became almost nonexistent and I was soaring into the sky.
In a fit of primal wanderlust, I nearly turned east and fled, only remembering at the last moment that I wasn't really the dragon, only inhabiting its mind for a short time. I wasn't sure how long the Uthlaylaa blood would last, so I turned back to the cave.
Ben was waiting for me at the cliff, squatting next to my body.
"Do you have the trick of it?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, feeling the way the word reverberated through my throat like a tunnel of drums. "Now I will find the spear and return with it."
When I leapt off the cliff, I had a moment of panic as I thought I wouldn't be able to see in the dark, but away from the light, the world bloomed into existence: a picture in shades of black and white.
I landed on the floor of the vast cave; it was larger than I'd thought from above. There was a small pond that bubbled with heat, a hot spring providing the warmth. A huge bed of pine provided a resting space. The needles looked old and crushed, but soft nevertheless.
The location of the spear did not reveal itself, so I tried burrowing my consciousness into the dragon's mind. The sudden impact of our selves nearly threw me right back out. The dragon pushed, and I held on with mental fingertips.
If the dragon won, we wouldn't have the spear and it would be able to hunt us at its leisure, so I dug in, raging against its defiance.
After a long battle, I was victorious. I regretted my actions instantly as I felt the wounded pride of the dragon. I had defiled her in my quest for the location.
Suddenly my heart was no longer in the fight. Once again, I'd had to resort to force to get my way. How could I dare say that I was Enlightened when these were my methods? To use the blood of a tortured creature to badger another to do my will? I was no better than they. Tugain had wished to stay apart from our war, but I had dragged her in, violating her in the most private manner.
I nearly released my control of Tugain when I sensed the location of the spear. With a heavy heart, I trudged to the spot, a crevasse high along the wall where no human would be able to find it.
Using my talons, I slipped it from its perch and flew back up and presented the spear to Ben. He tried to ask me a question, but I growled at him.
I lifted my limp body up as carefully as I could with a massive claw and stumble-walked up the slope. Once we reached the outside, I kept going towards the highlands where the airship waited.
I thought about trying to fly there, carrying Ben and myself, but did not dare risk dropping either one of us in my inexperience. Ideas of riding the dragon seemed ludicrous without a harness and saddle, and those items seemed unconscionable to put on an intelligent being without its consent.
The highlands were a twenty-minute hike, made easier by my ability to lift Ben past the difficult obstacles. Normally, it would have taken over an hour.
When we reached the airship, I laid my body down near Brassy and my daughter, who stared unbelieving at the majestic creature before them.
"I'm taking Tugain back to the caves," I said, using the dragon's voice. "Take my body onto the airship and start flying back to Ice Lake."
Before they could acknowledge my instructions, I leapt into the air, my powerful wings helping me climb into the sky. In a short time, I was back at the entrance.
I hesitated before I went in. Once I released Tugain, she could come after us, knocking the airship out of the sky. One jet of her fiery breath would puncture a hole in the leather bag that kept us aloft.
I should take Tugain far south, flying into the storm, to make it harder for her to return, giving us time to get back to Ice Lake. Or if I were crueler, I would fly to a great height and dive into the earth, releasing my hold at the last moment.
But I couldn't kill her, despite the danger it would place us in. She was a mother, as I was. I owed her that much.
Once I had her comfortably back in her home, I spoke into the humid cavern. "Apologies, Tugain. If there had been any other way, I would not have done this to you."
Then I released my hold on the dragon.
The sudden dislocation sent me to my knees—my human knees. Bile rose in my throat, but I forced it down, coughing and sputtering.
I was back in my body. The hum of the engines felt reassuring against my palms. I was in the pilot room. The others were staring at me.
"Will Tugain come after us?" asked my daughter.
As I climbed to my feet and the airship curled around the Aerie on the north side, an answer was given in the chilly upper air of the Siberian mountains. Tugain emerged from the cave, tilted her long neck back, and sent up a geyser of smoky fire.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
"Kat," said Ben, holding my sleeve, "you shouldn't have let her go so soon."
The dragon was perched on a rise and had extended her wings. She was staring at us. Even from this distance I could feel her animosity.
"Would it really matter if we were much further west? If she wants to, she can catch us. I thought it more prudent to release her before she grew too embittered," I said.
Ana slipped into my arms. We stood side by side, watching the dragon, who in turn was watching us. She'd not yet leapt into the sky, but we could all sense that moment was coming soon.
"She's quite beautiful," said Brassy. "Her scales shine like rainbows in the sunlight."
She was right. In the light of our lantern, Tugain had appeared greenish with rust-colored highlights. Now, she shimmered and scintillated.
We watched her and she watched us for a good long while, until we could no longer see her as we had moved too far west.
"This seems worse now that we can't see her," said Ana.
"The decision has been made. Nothing to do about it now. Let's focus on the task ahead of us, which is no less difficult," said Ben.
His words of wisdom sparked us into discussion, and we made plans on how we were going to take the fight against the Jörmungandr. Despite our best attempts to come up with something more complicated, the simplest version won out: go into the tunnel and kill the beast with the Gungnir.
We landed near the entrance to Ice Lake. The snow had been trampled to frozen mud. Sled tracks made parallel lines through boot marks. Haida and the others had left at l
east a few hours ago.
Ice Lake was ominously quiet except for the occasional pop of the ice in the sky like distant thunder. No torches were lit, so we carried our light with us, marching across the bottom until we reached the entrance to the Midgard Serpent's tunnel.
Standing at the threshold, I was about to say something witty to break the dour mood, when a quad of broken-stone howls reverberated into the empty lake.
"No," I said, letting the word hiss out my lips. "How did the sajhingatti find us?"
"They must have been waiting," said Ben. "Veles must have known we were going to attempt to free Kat from the Jörmungandr."
"I can distract them like I did on the plains," said Ana, with an enthusiasm that tugged at my heart.
"There's nowhere to run, and they would catch you. But I appreciate your willingness to take the challenge. Better that we all go down together. We haven't used any magic, so they can't know exactly where we are. Let's not give them any hints, until we must," I said.
The appearance of the wolves pushed us to enter the tunnel without further discussion. We moved quietly down the slope, holding hands for support.
When we reached the bottom, I asked Ben, "How much of Rowan's magic do you still hold?"
"My cup is overfull," he said, looking like a child trying to stand still in church. "It will be a relief to use it."
"How are we going to call the beast?" asked Brassy.
"It came on its own last time. I assume it knows I'm here through the link," I said.
"Yes," said Ben heavily. "The link. How are we going to keep you from crawling into its mouth like you almost did last time?"
In the intervening silence, Ana spoke. "The Eater's blood still flows through your veins. When it tries to take you, use the remaining power to fight back into its head."
"Will that work?" I asked.
Ana shrugged. "Koryak and I once tried to inhabit each other, to see if we could trade bodies, but we couldn't. Maybe this will be the same."
"It's worth a shot," I said.
"What about Ben and the spear?" asked Brassy.
"We'll need to distract the beast so he can attack it," I said.
Dragons of Siberia (The Dashkova Memoirs Book 7) Page 18
