Dragon Airways

by Brian Rathbone

  * * *

  Walking through Sparrowport with Tuck holding her hand was perhaps the happiest moment of Riette's life. In many ways it was also sad, but she concentrated on the good parts. The debris had been cleared from town, and ambitious reconstruction was under way. Those of the Zjhon fleet, stranded in the Midlands, were not themselves evil. Some had refused to integrate with the local peoples and were last seen making boats from wrecked airships, but most had stayed. Progress moved a little more slowly in the world, but that suited Riette just fine. It was unfortunate the decrease in the popularity of traveling by airship or airplane also meant an increase in demand for dragon-based transportation. She would not allow herself to cry.

  Tuck held open the door to the smithy, and Riette slipped in. Joren sat to one side, watching Brick fabricate a gear.

  "You've got to get the curvature just perfect," the old smith said.

  "I know. I know," Brick replied, smiling the whole time. Never before had he been so content. In their younger days, he had longed to do anything but work in the hot, sweaty smithy, but he'd seen his share of adventure now, and the people counted on him to make so many of the things they required. It was good to feel needed.

  "Well, well. Look at the two of you lovebirds walking around, trying to make an old man jealous," Joren said when they walked in.

  Brick looked up from his work and grinned at them. Then he frowned. "Just a moment," he said and quenched the gear.

  "How do you know it was perfect?" Joren asked.

  "I know."

  "Did you check it?"

  "No," Brick admitted.

  "Well, then you don't know, and what you don't know you don't know. You know? Always check it."

  "I always check before they leave the shop, Dad."

  "You're supposed to check it before and after. If you just check it after and it's wrong, then you have to start all over again. What sense does that make?"

  Brick stared at his father for a moment before looking back to Riette and Tuck. "I suppose you've come to pick up your gift."

  Riette nodded sadly, pursing her lips.

  "It really is a lovely gift," Joren said.

  Brick shot him a look, and the old smith rolled his eyes. "You know I don't usually work in wood," he said, and he presented a short staff of polished cedar topped by a bronze dragon's claw holding Emmet's favorite chaos sphere. He said it was as if he could see all of creation within its depths, and Riette wondered how much of it was true. It was beautiful and complex indeed, but the universe did not swirl for her the way he said it did for him. It was something she might never understand. If Emmet said it moved, it moved. Thoughts of him were painful, and she took a deep, shuddering breath.

  "Well, aren't you going to give her the one you've been working on when you were supposed to be sleeping?" Joren asked.

  Brick glared at his father but did not respond. He turned back to Riette. "I made something for you too." He took a moment to stare down his father again before he presented Riette with a staff, her favorite flower marble mounted at the top. Brick had constructed a smooth, straight staff with sweeping lines forming a perfect stem and leaves for the flower trapped in glass. He handed it to her with a grin. Her mouth hung open. Tuck had said he was having a nice box made for it. She had never expected something so perfect. When she closed her hand around it, magic streamed in through her fingertips, and she could no longer hold back her tears. "Thank you," she said. "It's beautiful."

  "I talked to Emmet and Barabas this morning, but you tell them I said good-bye," he said, still unwilling to accept a compliment.

  Riette nodded. Part of her wanted to drag her feet, as if that would stop him from going. He'd grown so much, so fast, it scared her. But mostly she was grateful for what Dashiq had done. She had given Emmet a chance to do things he might not otherwise have been able to do. Dashiq had helped Riette find understanding and compassion and even forgiveness. It had been difficult, but she had accepted the truth. Having Tuck at her side made it a little easier to bear.

  "Thank you both for everything," Riette said before leaving. "We should take some sweet rolls."

  Tuck gave her a look that said he knew she was delaying the inevitable, though he did eat two sweet rolls. The walk to the airfield was the completion of a strange circle in her life. There waited a dragon and her brother and Barabas. Tuck squeezed her hand.

  She'd come for a proud moment to see her brother off on his journey, but things didn't appear to be going terribly well. An enormous Golegeth, who continued to get bigger with each passing day, dragged Emmet across the airstrip. Bigger did not necessarily translate to more mature.

  "He'll be fine," Barabas said while eating a sweet roll. Then he shouted to Emmet, his speech continuing to improve. "Bring him on over here, and let's get this thing on him!"

  Golegeth continued dragging Emmet around the airfield, by the looks of it chasing butterflies. The dragon would stop for a moment, wait, wiggle his hind end, and spring into the air using all four legs. Emmet was getting better at predicting when the dragon would jump, but he still had little control over where they went.

  "Is this normal?" Riette asked, becoming sincerely concerned for her brother's safety.

  Barabas nodded. "Bring him back over here!" he shouted to Emmet.

  Riette glared at him when the dragon pounced on the same butterfly for the fifth time.

  "All right. You're doing good. Wear him out," Barabas said. He turned back to Riette. "Sometimes you just gotta let them get it out of their system. This one likes butterflies. It'll pass."

  "And Emmet?" she asked.

  "They're bonding," he said. He laughed from his belly, no longer able to contain his mirth. "He'll be fine. The dragon won't hurt him. That dragon loves that boy, and that boy loves that dragon. We'll get the tierre on him when he's ready. Things like this aren't supposed to come easy."

  Riette shook her head and turned her attention to the thing Barabas called a tierre. He'd said it was an ancient word and that Golegeth was the first dragon large enough to warrant one since the last war of power. Rather than a saddle, the tierre was wood and leather construction forming a cabin atop the dragon. It would seat three rows of three on each side of a central aisle. At the front were a pair of comfortable seats and thick, heavy lines with loops of reinforced leather forming handholds.

  Emmet approached a moment later, his chest heaving from exertion and his clothes grass stained but a smile on his face. Golegeth followed him, panting. Riette held back a giggle, not wanting to embarrass her brother, but he didn't appear to care. He'd been denied so much in his life, it warmed her soul to see him get to do the thing that made his heart sing. She was going to miss him.

  "I brought you this." She handed him the staff.

  "You didn't have to go and do that, but—ooh. What is it? Lemme have it. Mine, mine, mine." His eyes went wide when he held the staff in his hands for the first time. "Brick did this?"

  Riette nodded.

  "He outdid himself."

  "He made this one for me," she said, showing him the staff she'd already grown entirely too attached to. She couldn't help it. It made her feel more complete.

  It had been Emmet who suggested the lily marble would help make sure she never experienced an episode again. "Perhaps our smith friend has missed his calling. I never pictured him a whittler."

  "I'll be sure to tell him you said that," Riette said.

  "Wait until I've left if you don't mind."

  She nodded, not trusting her voice.

  "I'm glad you're here," Barabas said. "I hope you didn't just come for the refreshments. We need some help getting this tierre on our big friend here. You got him this time?" Barabas asked Emmet.

  He had to be joking, but it was at times difficult to tell. In the end, Tuck and Barabas did most of the heavy lifting, and Riette, her best to guide them. Golegeth snorted the entire time, watching them without blinking, but he allowed them to slide the tierre into place and secure th
e straps. It was not so unlike the saddle to which he was already accustomed.

  Once the cabin was secured, Emmet climbed the rope ladder for the first time and entered the place where he would be the captain. In control of his own destiny, the world was an open canvas. A tough teacher Barabas may be, but he cared for Emmet; of that there was no doubt. It had been a difficult thing for Tuck and Barabas to end their partnership, but things had worked out for the best. Barabas would look after Emmet and Golegeth, and Riette would look after Tuck. She giggled at that thought.

  People had begun to arrive at the airfield and watched the events transpire. Soon a balloon drifted toward the airstrip, the pilot using thrusters to steer against the wind. Emmet sat alone in his tierre and had just buckled himself in when Golegeth spotted the balloon. Bouncing on all fours, he looked back at Emmet. His pupils wide, he turned and leaped into the air from a standstill.

  "Whoa!" came Emmet's shout from the tierre.

  "Uh-oh," Barabas said with a chuckle.

  Riette gaped.

  "He won't eat anybody," Barabas continued with a lopsided grin. "But I bet they don't know that."

  After three times approaching the balloon, Golegeth tired of the game and landed back where he'd started. He looked back at Emmet again, his pupils still wide, as if he found it all immensely amusing.

  "You probably shouldn't have let him do that," Barabas said, and Tuck couldn't contain his laughter.

  Riette elbowed him in the ribs.

  Emmet climbed down, and despite looking a wee bit squeamish, he took his proper place as both barker and pilot—just as Barabas had started out. People disembarking from the balloon cast a wide berth around the dragon who had greeted them. "Fly Dragon Airways," Emmet called out to the first person who passed. "We don't normally scare folks like that."

  Emmet smiled at Tuck, who smacked his forehead.

  "Fly Dragon Airways," Emmet said to the next man, who grumbled in response. "At least we're friendly, even if perhaps too friendly."

  Barabas groaned.

  "Fly Dragon Airways. We don't hardly never crash."

  Tuck gave Emmet the thumbs-up on that one. Barabas shook his head.