The New Age

by Chris D'Lacey

  “You mean Gayl and Gariffred?” Gabrial stared at Garodor as if the De:allus had suddenly betrayed him.

  “The wearlings would be safer on Ki:mera,” Garodor admitted.

  “But that would mean Grendel, at least, going with them.”

  “Or a suitable guardian,” Gossana said. Talk of the remains of Graven seemed to have made her distinctly uneasy. “Perhaps I could … ?”

  “No,” said Gabrial, ruffling the small scales around his ears. He was speaking to Garodor again, not Gossana. “Gariffred and Gayl were born here. By our laws, this world is theirs to inherit. They are the first true Erth dragons. Besides, if Gariffred is taken, it might anger Ren. It will certainly upset the drake. Their bond is—”

  “ENOUGH,” snapped Grynt. He trained his powerful gaze on Garodor. “The wearlings are going nowhere. And the Wearle will not stand down. Nor will any prisoners be released. My duty is to hold these mountains and prepare this world for colonization. That is what we are going to do, and no Hom will prevent it. I do not believe that Graven is among us or that the boy is indestructible. And before you remind me that I failed to burn him, perhaps you need to be reminded of his cunning. Yes, he has inherited some dragon auma and with it learned some of our skills. No doubt that includes the ability to i:mage. How can we be certain that it was nothing more than a projection of himself that stood in the forest before me? If so, the boy can burn like any other Hom.”

  Garodor’s yellow eyes dimmed in thought. “I see your logic, but I believe you are wrong. The boy had a point to prove and he did so—impressively.”

  “He also glamored Grendel,” Gabrial said. “It takes real power to do that. What I don’t understand is why he delivered the girl, Pine Onetooth, to my cave.”

  “To spy on us, of course,” Gossana said sourly.

  “I doubt it,” Garodor countered. “I think Pine is there to test our trust: If the girl is mistreated, Ren will surely retaliate.”

  “She has forged a strong bond with Gayl,” said Gabrial. “Ren made the myss bite her hand so that Pine, like Ren, would receive some of our auma.”

  “Hom: They disgust me,” Gossana rumbled. “Surely this just makes the girl a bigger threat? I say we roast them all.”

  “Again, I urge caution,” Garodor growled. “We must be vigilant, certainly, but—”

  “Enough of this bickering!” Grynt interrupted, filling the air with his heat. Turning to Garodor, he said, “Go back to Ki:mera and do as you will. I find your theories disruptive and your arguments weak. Your deference to the Hom makes my back teeth grate. Gabrial, your orders are as they were at the beginning of this tiresome conversation. Get the boy out of hiding and bring him to me.”

  “And how do you propose he does that?” sighed Garodor.

  Grynt exhaled a raft of smoke. “As you’ve already told us, the boy was fool enough to leave not one, but two of his companions behind. We’ll start with the girl.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Gabrial.

  “Take her somewhere high and call the boy out. He’ll hear you and come to save her from the drop. I’ll send the Veng to cover you. They will do the rest.”

  “And if he doesn’t show himself?” Garodor asked.

  “Then the birds can pick her off the valley floor,” said Grynt, as cold and blunt as the stone he was standing on. “And if that doesn’t work, we’ll take the man up next. Either way, we win.” He flicked his tail toward the cave mouth. “Go.”

  “No.”

  Before Gabrial could get the whole story out, Grendel was refusing to accept Grynt’s orders.

  “There’s been too much killing,” she said, the golden braids glowing on her purple face. “The girl is no threat. You told me yourself: Ren drew all the darkness out of her. She is empty of evil. Look.”

  Gabrial turned his anxious gaze toward Pine. The girl was sitting calm and cross-legged on a spur of rock at one side of the cave. She was singing quietly. Beside her lay the last of a heap of blue flowers, plucked from the patchy grassland outside and brought to her by Gayl, the female wearling. Pine was weaving them into a chain. Gabrial shook his head in awe. Dragons could think what they liked about the Hom, but there was no denying the Kaal’s dexterity. And this off the back of the injury to her hand. Pine had made a remarkable recovery from Gayl’s bite. Just like Ren, who’d been similarly wounded by Gariffred, Pine’s body had reacted by producing a sheen of scales along her arm. They glinted every time she threaded one flower stalk into the next. Dragon auma in another Hom child. No wonder Grynt was fearful of them.

  Gabrial watched as Pine completed her chain, turning it into a ring of flowers that she slipped over Gayl’s grateful head. The wearmyss graarked in delight.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Gabrial said in distress, curling the end of his great blue tail. “The Veng will be here as soon as they receive the order. If I defy Grynt, they could strike at me.”

  “Then they’ll be fighting us both,” growled Grendel.

  “And what then?” Gabrial huffed. “One of us, possibly both of us, killed or maimed in front of the wearlings? How’s that going to help? And if Gariffred joins in … Where is Gariffred?”

  “Out. Flying.”

  “Alone?”

  Grendel creaked a shoulder. “You can’t ground a wearling for long. You know what it’s like when you first find your wings. Don’t worry, Gus is with him.”

  “Gus? What’s he doing here? I thought he was supposed to be at Grymric’s cave, guarding the male Hom?”

  “He came to check on the girl’s progress, looking for signs of hope, I think. The man you call Rolan is dying. Grymric’s potions aren’t enough to heal him.”

  Gabrial was not entirely surprised. He remembered how badly Rolan had been hurt during the bitter conflict with the goyles. Half the man’s chest had been crushed. Not to mention the goyle venom that had taken off an ear and left its poisonous trail inside.

  “I sent him out with Gariffred to stop him brooding,” said Grendel. “Unless you want to be similarly afflicted, I suggest you ignore Grynt’s orders and set Pine free.”

  “What?”

  “I mean it. Let the girl go. Fly her to the forest where we know she can hide. What other choice do you have?”

  Gabrial shook his head until his spiracles popped. “I can’t free her. That’s treason.”

  “Not if I overrule Grynt’s command; I am to be the queen of this colony, after all.”

  Gabrial fanged his lip. He replied softly, not wishing to hurt her pride. “Grynt will never accept you as queen because you’re not the wearlings’ mother. If I disobey him, it could cause a war within the Wearle. There has to be a better way, Grendel. Ren is the key to this. I must find him. Where is Gariffred, exactly? Which way did he fly?”

  “Seaward. He likes to chase the white birds that cluster on the cliffs. Don’t draw Gariffred into this. You haven’t time to contact Ren through him. Just take the girl and fly her clear. I’ll tell the Veng you took her across the mountains. That will give you more time.”

  Gabrial thought for a moment. “All right, I’ve got an idea.” He swept toward Pine. The girl put down her flowers and stopped singing. “We must leave,” Gabrial said in slow dragontongue, careful not to choke her airways with his smoke.

  Right away, Gayl began to flap her wings, aware that her “friend” was about to be removed. Pine, for her part, seemed less concerned. She widened her mouth, exposing the single upper “fang” that had earned her the derisory surname. She nodded faintly, twisting her damaged hand as though she knew it was the key that would unlock her destiny. Patting Gayl on the head, she raised her arms, inviting Gabrial to clamp her around the midriff. She was thin, a mere thread of life. It was all Gabrial could do not to break her bones. Outside, but still some distance away, he heard the squeal of the Veng approaching. Only two had survived the goyle wars, but they made enough sound for six. Gabrial yanked Pine up and was gone in a blur, leaving not one but two females roarin
g in his wake. For he had hit the sky and banked away south, against Grendel’s advice.

  He had gone seaward in search of Gariffred.

  He found the drake soon enough. Gariffred was circling the barren cliffs, unmoved by the ringing chorus of seabirds who were squawking their murderous threats at him. He had no fire to frighten them with—that was still a few days ahead—but his size alone was enough to scatter them off their settles whenever he swooped in close. Now and again, he would skrike back, mocking them, though his “roar” was barely a tone below theirs. Every show of aggression, fake or intended, would be drowned in a new cacophony of screams, futile cries that occasionally ended in bloodshed. For the drake had to eat, as any dragon did. If a bird, in panic, crossed his path, his young but exceptionally agile claws were more than capable of stealing it out of the sky. He was spitting the feathers from a kill such as this when he heard Gabrial calling him down to land. He dutifully obeyed, gliding onto the windblown headland beside his blue guardian.

  Gabrial released his grip on Pine, dropping her, unscathed, onto all fours.

  At the same moment, Gus landed close by. “Gabrial? What’s happening?”

  “There’s no time to explain. Circle above me. Call if you see any Veng approaching. I need to commingle with Gariffred.”

  Gus growled at the thought of Veng. He hated the Veng. Most dragons did. “And the girl?” He gestured her way.

  “I’m trying to save her. I’ll signal to you when I’m done with Gariffred. Get him away from here, clear of the water. Take him to the Hom man, Rolan, if you like. The drake’s auma healed Ren once. Maybe it can help save Rolan.”

  A softened expression swept across Gus’s blunted snout. An unspoken bond of gratitude passed between him and the blue. With a downbeat that had Pine covering her ears, he lifted off, almost blowing Gariffred over.

  Gabrial righted the drake and pressed his thoughts into the young one’s mind. At his age, this was easier than trying to speak. Gariffred, listen. I must find Ren. If I don’t, the Veng might come and hurt Pine. Gariffred, look at me. Right into my eyes. Do you know where he is? Can you i:mage his location?

  Graark! went the drake, trying to break eye contact.

  But Gabrial’s glamoring hold was strong. Gariffred, concentrate. Show me. I promise you, no harm will come to Ren.

  And slowly, as he had done once before, the drake began to form a picture. Using that peculiar power all dragons had of turning their thoughts into floating i:mages outside their heads, he drew what looked like a mountain peak.

  It was undefined and fuzzy at its base, as if it were poking through a layer of cloud. A high mountain, then. Gabrial quickly looked over his shoulder at the mountain range he’d left behind, focusing his gaze on the tallest peak, the one the dragons called Skytouch. The shape of the mountaintop matched the drake’s i:mage. Skytouch was also where Grynt had his eyrie. Was it possible that Ren was hiding there, waiting for a favorable moment to transfigure into Graven and strike at the Prime?

  Hrrraarrgh! came a deep-throated cry from above.

  Gus, with a warning.

  The Veng were coming.

  Gabrial ground his fangs. They must have tracked his flight from the cave, after all. “Gariffred! Come to me! Now!” he bellowed.

  The drake had drifted back toward the cliff. He was stumbling on the uneven ground, crying at Pine in a manner that begged her not to leave. The girl had gotten to her feet and was now well out of the blue dragon’s reach. To Gabrial’s horror, she was balanced on a rock at the edge of the land, her lank hair blowing sideways in the breeze. “Girl!” he called, in the best Hom voice he could.

  She looked into the sky and saw the two Veng coming. A faint smile passed across her lips. Then, without a care, she looked down at the water, opened her hand to let a flower fall—and jumped.

  It seemed to take an age for her body to disappear, as if the sky in its mercy wanted to cushion her against the drop. Gariffred skittered to the cliff edge, squealing, his wings extended, dragging the grass. The first of the Veng flashed by. The speed at which it cut across Gabrial’s path blurred his eyes bright green for a moment and stopped him taking off in search of Pine. By the time his vision had cleared, the other Veng had landed close to Gariffred. It barked at the drake to make himself scarce. Gariffred put his foot into a hollow and tipped back on to his skinny haunches, hissing at the Veng for all he was worth. Allowing no margin for age or naivety, the Veng poured its flame over Gariffred’s head, then sent a sharp burst in Gabrial’s direction, a warning to the blue to stay back.

  “Hurt him and I’ll kill you,” Gabrial roared, his claws plowing deep into the ground. Thankfully, the thrust of heat had done no more than scare the drake and bowl him aside. His body scales, not yet fully hardened, looked to have suffered some minor scorching: the Veng equivalent of a reprimand, a cuff. To Gabrial’s relief, the drake took to the air and faded out of range.

  The Veng peered casually over the cliff, giving no hint of what it could see.

  “The girl. Is she dead?” Gabrial pressed. In his mind, he pictured her floating, star-shaped, her tiny frame lapping with the shape of the waves, a better i:mage to carry back to Gayl than a body smashed against unforgiving rocks.

  “I can’t see her,” the Veng said sourly. It graarked at its companion to check.

  Gabrial twitched his nostrils. It couldn’t see her? Maybe Pine had plummeted deep underwater? Though that was unlikely, for the cliff was not sheer at this point. But if she’d hit the rocks, her body would be seen. Even if she’d slipped between the pointed crags that stood like guards against the foaming tides, her body would have bled. The scent of fresh blood would be easy for the Veng to trace. He watched the second one roll in midair, then dip out of sight beyond the cliff. A beat passed, yet no word came from it. Gabrial glanced at the sky and saw Gus circling. There was now no sight nor sound of Gariffred.

  With his hopes for Pine dashed and his loyalties divided, Gabrial was now anxious to make a move. “I need to leave,” he said, flicking out his wing tips. “The Prime is in danger. I must speak with him on a matter of great urgency.”

  “You’re going nowhere till we find the girl,” said the Veng.

  “She’s dead,” snapped Gabrial. “You saw what happened. She took her life. Not even by my order. She couldn’t survive a drop so deep. Now get out of my way. There’s nothing for you here. Trust me, Veng, the longer I delay, the more you’ll have to answer for later.”

  The Veng gargled. Not a good sign. They were known to possess a considerable range of intimidating noises, and this didn’t sound like a yielding reaction. The moment Gabrial opened his wings, the Veng roared again. Its fire blazed so close this time it caused a heat mist to form in the blue dragon’s eyes. As he blinked to cool them he noticed Gus had dropped lower in the sky. The roamer had his claws out, ready to attack.

  The Veng that was searching for Pine reappeared. It flew over, giving a brief report. Nothing. She must be hiding.

  The Veng confronting Gabrial growled suspiciously.

  At that moment, Gariffred glided by, intent on doing his own search of the cliffs. The Veng in the sky closed in to shadow the drake’s movements. In desperation, Gabrial said, “For the last time, hear me. I need to take Gariffred to Skytouch right away. He … he knows something about the boy.”

  Foolish. Even as the words were leaving his mouth, Gabrial wished he could bite through his tongue.

  The Veng wound its slender neck forward. It opened its long, ferocious jaws. Strings of gluey drool wound down off its fangs, fangs that looked sharp enough to perforate rock. The shields came down on its slanted eyes. Veng shields were nothing more than a hard transparent membrane, a heat-resistant battle aid evolved over centuries of selective breeding. The membranes were clear at birth, but the Veng had learned to stain them a subtle shade of green by draining blood into them from nearby cells. The resulting “eyeless” appearance struck fear into their foes, which more than compens
ated for the slight impairment of vision. Even Gabrial, who had seen the effect many times, felt his primary heart skip a beat. The Veng lashed its tongue. A sign of its desire for answers—or conflict. “Where is the Hom boy? Speak or you die.”

  Gabrial closed his mouth. It would have been so easy to bow to the Veng and simply share Gariffred’s i:mage with it. Had Grendel been beside him, she would have pressed this course for the sake of Gariffred’s safety, if not his. But nothing in Gabrial’s bloodline would make him back down from a head-on threat, even with an opponent as deadly as this. And so he raised his battle stigs and heard himself saying, “That’s for me to know and you to find out, sier pent.”

  The Veng reared back, offended by the slur (Gabrial had called it a “green fish”). But instead of launching an immediate attack, it snapped an order at its companion. Before Gabrial could work out what was happening, Gariffred was in the second Veng’s clutches. It had pulled the drake clean out of the sky and now had him pinned to the ground by his neck.

  “Tada!” Gariffred cried, squirming under the Veng’s cruel claws.

  Gabrial was helpless. And the facing Veng was quick to confirm it. It whipped its tail into the air and said, “One step, one puff of smoke, and his scrawny neck cracks. All I have to do is drop my tail. Now, where is the boy?”

  “I knows where,” said a voice.

  If Ren himself had drifted by on a bed of cloud, Gabrial could not have been more astounded. Pine had suddenly reappeared. She must have climbed back on to the headland somehow, though Gabrial had seen no sign of it. For all he knew, she could have popped up out of the ground like a flower. Who knew what powers she’d inherited from Gayl? She was showing no cuts or other injuries. And her robe, though marked with some rips from previous adventures, was still intact. The thought crossed his mind that she could be a spirit returned from a very disagreeable death, though she didn’t float over the ground like a vapor, and vapors—in his admittedly limited experience—didn’t come bearing gifts. Pine was carrying an egg, carefully balanced on an upturned palm. A seabird egg. White. A little larger than usual. She offered it up to the bemused Veng, who seemed temporarily immobilized by this bizarre apparition.