Dragonslayer

by Tui T. Sutherland

  “Daffodil,” Violet said patiently, although Ivy knew her “patient” voice was actually her “drive Daffodil insane” voice. “First, there will be dragons guarding the palace, even in the middle of the night. Second, we’d have to get ourselves and the treasure and three horses out of Valor without being noticed. And third, DRAGONS CAN’T READ.”

  “Well, our choices are (a) leave a note or (b) explain it to them ourselves,” Daffodil argued. “And I’m not up for talking to dragons! That is a much worse plan than mine!”

  “No one is saying we should talk to the dragons,” Violet said. “Even Ivy, who loves them the way normal people love treasure or family or cheese, isn’t ridiculous enough to want to talk to a dragon.”

  Imagine if we could, though, Ivy thought dreamily. What would they say to us? What do dragons think about? What are their stories about? Do they know anything about us?

  “Ivy,” Violet said sternly. “Reassure me that you are not thinking right now about talking to a dragon.”

  “I’m just … wondering what they’d say,” Ivy admitted.

  Daffodil laughed and Violet made a despairing sound.

  “A sea dragon could tell us what’s at the bottom of the ocean,” Ivy said. “An ice dragon could tell us what a polar bear tastes like! And they could all tell us what it feels like to fly.”

  “Sometimes I feel like you’re unclear on the basic reality of dragons,” Violet said. “Perhaps I should remind you about the giant teeth. And the fire-breathing. And the claws. But mostly the teeth.”

  “I know, I know,” Ivy said. “I’m going up a bit higher.” They were in one of the tallest trees; it poked out above the rest of the forest canopy. If she climbed up there, she’d be able to see the sky all the way to the mountains, and maybe some faraway dragons.

  She heard Daffodil and Violet scrambling to follow her up. This was another thing she’d missed about being outside — there weren’t nearly enough interesting things to climb in Valor. According to her uncle Stone, Rose had been a natural climber, too. Ivy liked thinking about that … She wasn’t as mischievous or brave as Rose, but they still had things in common, like climbing and drawing.

  She climbed until she found a high section of branches fairly well hidden by greenery, and then settled in on one side of the trunk. Daffodil beat Violet to the branch on the other side and made a little ha! noise. Violet sat down just below them with her nose in the air, acting as though that was where she’d planned to sit all along.

  “What if we left it in the desert,” Ivy said, thinking aloud, “just outside the forest — near the old village — and we drew big arrows in the sand pointing to it, so they could see it from the sky?”

  “Someone might come along and steal it before the dragons found it,” Violet pointed out.

  “Including the wrong dragons,” Daffodil agreed. “I mean, I assume there are dragons who shouldn’t get the treasure, right? Like, it came from the sand dragons, so it should go back to them? So if the mountain dragons took it, that would be bad?”

  “Unless that meant the sand dragons would start attacking the mountain dragons instead of us,” Violet said, adjusting the green wrap around her hair.

  “They might not realize the mountain dragons stole it, though,” Ivy said. “All right, so not that.” She parted the leaves in front of her. “Oh, look!” she cried, her voice dropping to a whisper even though the dragons were miles away.

  Three glorious dragons soared down from the higher peaks, shimmering crimson and orange like living flames darting across the blue sky. The sun lit up their enormous wings as the three dragons spiraled up to the clouds and then plummeted down toward the forest.

  “I’m suddenly feeling a little visible up here,” Daffodil whispered.

  “We’re all right,” Ivy whispered back. “Just don’t move.” Once in her training with Foxglove, they had been up this high and a dragon had flown past close enough for the wind to rip leaves off their tree and throw them in her face. But it hadn’t noticed them. If her friends kept still, they should all be fine.

  Ivy watched the dragons swing lazily closer and closer. Their gaze was trained on the ground. Probably hunting, she thought.

  Suddenly one of them whipped around and dove into the trees. A moment later it roared, a sound like all the walls of the village collapsing in at once. It burst out of the trees, lashing its tail, and Ivy saw that its talons were empty. With another roar, it seized one of the trees, ripped it out of the ground, and tossed it across the forest. Then it dove again.

  What has it found? Ivy wondered. A deer? A bear? It wouldn’t try that hard for something small like a rabbit, right?

  She peered down through the branches and saw a boy dart between the trees.

  A person! she thought, her heart pounding. Who is that?

  He wasn’t coming from the direction of Valor. Had he been out hunting and gotten separated from his group? But he also wasn’t wearing the brown of a hunting apprentice, or the green of a Wingwatcher in training.

  Is he one of the banished? She leaned farther out, trying to get a better look at him.

  “Ivy!” Daffodil whispered.

  “Do you see him?” Ivy whispered back.

  Daffodil gave a little nod. Her gaze was trained on the shape racing through the forest below them.

  The boy vaulted over a fallen log and crouched on the other side, digging himself into the leaves.

  That’s never going to work, Ivy thought.

  She had a clearer view of him now — thin but muscular, and browner than her, like he’d spent a lot more time in the sun than she ever had. His tangled dark hair was snarled with leaves, and there were rips and holes all over his clothes. He looked her age, or perhaps a bit older. She was pretty sure she’d never seen him before.

  He’s from somewhere else, she thought. Maybe somewhere far away — maybe he’s seen a sea dragon!

  And now I’m going to watch him get eaten, she thought with a terrible lurch in her stomach.

  The dragon was on the ground and slithering through the trees, twisting its head in an unsettling way as it searched for its prey. Its red-gold scales glittered like dragonfly wings. It was getting closer and closer to the boy’s hiding place.

  Don’t move, said Foxglove’s voice in her head. Do NOT leave this tree for ANYTHING. Stay in place until we return. Just watch. That’s all you’re allowed to do.

  But she couldn’t let someone die right in front of her.

  She slowly, carefully slid her hand into her pack. She had an apple in there that was supposed to be lunch for all three of them.

  Violet looked up at her and shook her head slightly. Don’t do anything stupid, her face said loud and clear.

  Ivy tried to make a face back that said, Saving someone ISN’T stupid, Violet, but she wasn’t sure her eyebrows were communicating that very precisely.

  She waited until the dragon was facing away from her, and then she threw the apple as hard as she could into the forest, away from the boy and the entrance to Valor.

  The dragon’s head snapped up, and it bolted after the sound.

  Ivy swung around and slithered down the tree, burning her hands on the bark and scraping her knees. Daffodil was already in motion, too, dropping from branch to branch. She heard Violet make a sound like “AARGH” and follow them.

  The boy was on his feet when Ivy hit the ground. He spun and stared at her with wary brown eyes. The dragon was crashing through the bracken somewhere off in the forest to their right. Hopefully all the noise it was making would mask the sound of their escape.

  “Come on,” Ivy whispered, beckoning.

  The four of them ran through the trees, keeping low. The sound of wingbeats overhead had faded away, so the other two dragons must have moved on to hunt elsewhere.

  The closest entrance to Valor was the one Foxglove was guarding, a dark hole in the side of a hill. It was risky to go that way — she didn’t want the dragon to see them going in. But Ivy knew that
Foxglove would want them to go straight to her, and it was the fastest way to get everyone underground.

  The dragon let out a frustrated roar behind them. Ivy grabbed the boy’s hand and put on a burst of speed. To her surprise, he kept up easily, even though he must have been running for a while before she saw him. He was fast, and he didn’t even seem tired yet.

  Daffodil ran ahead to shove the workers inside, but they had heard the dragon and were already gone. The entrance was now well hidden by a net structure woven with branches and leaves. When they reached it, Foxglove was waiting to drag them inside.

  Safe, shadowy darkness closed around them. Foxglove lit one of the lanterns and raised her eyebrows disapprovingly.

  “Mountain dragon in the woods,” Ivy gasped to Foxglove. “Tried to eat him.” She pointed at the boy, then rested her hands on her knees, catching her breath.

  Daffodil lay down on the floor with a thump and Violet collapsed beside her, leaning against the cave wall.

  “Has anyone ever told you three that you are very bad at following directions?” Foxglove demanded. “Such as ‘stay in this tree’! Or ‘never run from a dragon’! Remember that? Lesson number one?”

  “I tried to stop them,” Violet said.

  “Dragon!” Ivy cried again, wounded. “Him! Nearly eaten! We were — It was —”

  “Very heroic,” Daffodil supplied from her prone position. “You should have seen Ivy. She was brave as anything! I mean, if you had to guess which one of us would leap out of a tree to save a stranger from a dragon, wouldn’t you have guessed me? But it wasn’t me! I was too scared! It was totally Ivy!”

  “I wasn’t scared,” Violet interjected. “I was being sensible. And following orders, unlike these two.”

  “Well, I thought Ivy was amazing,” Daffodil said loyally.

  “They did save my life,” the boy said. “I’m so sorry to have endangered yours,” he said to Ivy. “I’m supposed to be the one saving people.”

  “You can have the next turn,” she joked, and he smiled at her. He had a smile that looked rarely used, as if it only slipped out when he really meant it.

  “I am grateful to them, really,” he said to Foxglove. “I was recently very nearly eaten by dragons, and it’s terrifying.”

  Ivy really wanted to hear more about that, but Daffodil sat up and said, “What’s your name? Why were you out in the woods by yourself?”

  “I’m Leaf,” he said, blowing his hair out of his eyes. “I come from a village in the mountains called Talisman. Travelers told me I might find the Dragonslayer near here.”

  “The Dragonslayer?” Ivy said. Her heart sank. Is he hoping my father can save his village? They’d had a few visitors like this before, who had traveled across the continent to plead desperately for the help of a man who could slay dragons. A dragon is terrorizing my family, my people, my home. Please, Dragonslayer, come kill it for us.

  Her father’s usual response was to send them away with a promise that he would follow in a few weeks. Sometimes he left Valor with a lot of fuss and pomp, then returned triumphantly to claim that he’d chased off the dragon — but Ivy was sure he never really went to the beleaguered villages.

  Those poor people, waiting and waiting for a hero who never comes.

  “What do you want with the Dragonslayer?” Violet asked Leaf.

  Leaf picked a twig out of his hair, looking oddly lost. “It’s … complicated,” he said. “I guess the short version is I’ve always wanted to kill a dragon. I was hoping the Dragonslayer could teach me how.”

  Ivy could feel her friends’ eyes on her, knowing how she would react.

  Always wanted to kill a dragon. What kind of life dream was that?

  Maybe he had a reason. Maybe he came from one of those desperate villages, but instead of asking the Dragonslayer to come save them, he wanted to learn to save them himself.

  Or maybe he’s dreaming of treasure. Maybe he’s just another idiot like my dad, willing to set the world on fire to get rich.

  She hesitated. He didn’t look like a selfish treasure-hungry dragon murderer. His eyes were too sad. She wanted to trust him, but maybe that was the aftereffects of saving someone’s life.

  “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked him that,” she said slowly. “I can’t promise what he’ll say, but let’s go see him and find out.”

  Leaf couldn’t believe he’d finally found it. Valor, home of the Dragonslayer! It was real, and he was here at last.

  Somehow, he’d never pictured it underground. The name Valor made him think of a towering city on a hill, facing down the dragons with no fear. But the citizens of Valor lived like moles. He supposed it was safer that way, but it was still unexpected.

  His heart beat nervously as he followed his rescuers through the tunnels. He’d never been to another human village beyond Talisman. A traveling family had given him directions to Valor and a message for the Dragonslayer, and he’d only stayed with them for a night. He’d never been surrounded by this many strangers before.

  Leaf, you daft blueberry, Wren scolded him in his head. You survived a giant palace full of dragons. I think you can handle a bunch of strange humans. I mean, at least they probably won’t try to eat you.

  Well, if any of them did, it would most likely be Violet — she was the tall one with the short hair and the assessing look. She kept studying him from head to toe like she was taking notes for a test, except he’d be the one who had to take it.

  Next to her was Daffodil, who kept jumping up to touch the ceiling tunnel, making her ponytail bounce. She stayed close to the other two, especially Violet, and her hands were constantly moving as she talked, which she did a lot.

  And then there was Ivy, the one who’d distracted the dragon and brought him into Valor. She had a friendly smile and long dark hair, which had been tied up when he first saw her but had fallen loose while they were running. She also had an interesting way of keeping an eye on her friends all the time, as if she was waiting for them to bump off course so she could steer them straight.

  She fell back to walk beside him and started pointing out the sights and geography of Valor. They went through a giant central hall where “announcements and banishments happen,” Ivy said, but he didn’t register the word banishment until much later. He was too distracted by all the people who strolled the tunnels as though this were any ordinary village. In fact, the biggest difference between here and Talisman was the fact that the villagers didn’t keep glancing up at the sky, shivering with fear at every sound that might be a wingbeat or a dragon roar or a warning bell. Everyone here seemed so calm.

  See, there is an advantage to living underground, he thought, and the Wren in his head made a scoffing noise.

  “Why isn’t anyone else wearing green like you guys?” Leaf asked Ivy.

  “We’re Wingwatchers,” Ivy said happily. “This is our uniform. But we’re not the only ones — see, there’s Moth, he’s another.” She waved to a boy walking by with a basket of yarn.

  “What do Wingwatchers do?” Leaf noticed a beam of sunlight coming into one of the caves through a small hole near the ceiling. Another Wingwatcher was crouched on a ledge, looking out at the sky.

  “We study dragons,” she said, “and we watch for them when people are outside, and we guard the entrances to make sure no one leads them to us.”

  His stomach plummeted. “Are you like dragonmancers?” he asked nervously.

  “I don’t know what that is,” she said, tilting her head at him.

  “They have visions about what the dragons want and how to appease them,” he said. “At least, they say they do. But they’re liars.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Um, no, that’s not what Wingwatchers are like at all.”

  “Sorry,” he said. “I’m sure you’re not.”

  “Why do you want to kill a dragon so much?” she asked.

  He looked down at his feet and kicked a rock out of their path. “My sister was eaten by dragons seven years ago,�
�� he said. “I tried to avenge her, but it turns out slaying dragons is actually really hard.”

  “Oh,” she said. “I’m so sorry. That sounds awful.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “You know, it’s weird. I always say it that way, but I know more about it now and I still haven’t said the worst part out loud.” He took a deep breath. “She wasn’t accidentally eaten. The dragonmancers sacrificed her.”

  “What?” Ivy cried. “Leaf, that’s terrible!”

  He nodded. “And now I don’t know what to do. I feel like, all I’ve wanted for so long is justice for Wren, but am I even doing it the right way anymore? Would she want me to go after the dragonmancers instead?”

  Yes, the Wren in his head said snippily. Obviously.

  “But how would I even do that?” he asked. “They run Talisman. Everyone listens to them. And I’m not going to stab them with a sword.”

  Maybe you should, Wren muttered.

  I could never do that, he told her again. I’m not a murderer, even if they deserve it.

  “So, I guess for now I’m trying to stick with my original plan,” he said to Ivy. “Go after the dragons and protect future kids like Wren. If I can learn how.”

  “Hmmm,” she said, winding a lock of hair around her finger. “Have you ever thought … maybe going after the dragons would make things more dangerous for future kids?”

  He tilted his head at her. “What? How? Surely fewer dragons equals less danger.”

  “Unless the survivors get really mad and vengeful,” Ivy pointed out. “They don’t particularly like their family members getting killed either. Right?”

  Leaf tried to imagine angrier, more vengeful dragons. A dragon like him, who was heartbroken over losing someone to the humans. Could dragons be heartbroken? Did they love their families? Not like humans did, surely.

  But maybe some did … like the brown dragon who’d helped him … or the baby and its caretaker in the kitchen. What if he accidentally killed a dragon like that? How would he know?