Dragon Spear (3 page)
I was going to donate it to the hoard of a dragon named Gala, a friend from the Second Dragon War, who loved fine sewing and whose hoard had been taken away from her years ago, when Shardas’s cruel brother, Krashath, had enslaved her. The fact that this gown was in my luggage was a secret, though, in case Luka or one of the guards recognized it and did something foolish out of fear of some silly curse.
A gown could not be cursed! At least, I didn’t think so.
After giving Alle a hug, and telling her to keep an eye on the new apprentices and to give Marta another hug from me, I mounted up. I had half-hoped that Marta and Tobin would come to see us off since their little house was only a few streets away, but it was very early, and quite cold, so I could hardly blame them for staying home.
Our horses’ hooves clattered on the cobblestones as we set off down the street. Luka and Hagen and I rode in the front, Hagen looking like he was going to nod off and fall right out of the saddle. Behind us came guards and grooms and the string of pack animals.
Normally when Luka went on a journey, he started from the New Palace, in full daylight, with people there to cheer and wave, and his father making a speech about how proud he was of Luka and giving him a royal kiss on each cheek. But King Caxel didn’t approve of this journey, and my association with the dragons still made some people wary, so we started out in darkness and alone but for the few servants who had agreed to accompany us.
As we passed the street where Marta lived, someone called my name. I glanced over, and there was Marta, still in her night robe, running toward us on bare feet. “Creel! Creel!” Tobin was right behind her, fully dressed, but looking groggy. Marta caught my horse’s bridle with a gasp. “Sorry! Overslept!”
I dismounted and gave her a hug. “It’s all right. Now get inside before you catch your death!” I gave Tobin a hug as well. Hagen and Luka had also dismounted, and now they hugged Marta, and punched Tobin’s shoulders in a manly way. We promised to bring them gifts, and Marta promised to keep the shop running smoothly.
And then, of course, she reminded me to take care of my wedding gown.
“Honestly!” I shook my head as a snickering Luka helped me back onto my horse. “It will be fine! I will return with a gorgeous,
clean
, finished gown, Marta!”
“See that you do,” she said severely.
Waving, we started out for the second time. Hagen was more awake now, and was asking one of the guards about his duties and whether or not he had ever fought in a battle. Luka was still looking at me with an amused expression.
“What?” I knew I sounded irritable, but it was too early in the morning for me to be more pleasant. Usually I would sleep for another two hours, then have a leisurely breakfast while I sorted through the day’s work.
“What will you do if something does go wrong with the wedding gown?” His eyes twinkled.
I stuck out my tongue. “I suppose I shall just have to postpone our wedding until I have made a new one. You wouldn’t mind waiting another year, would you?” I smiled sweetly and tapped my horse with my heels, moving ahead of him. “After all: you wouldn’t want me to get married in a badly made gown!”
Luka shook his head, chuckling, and heeled his own horse up beside mine. “No,” he said, “I wouldn’t want that.”
T
his really
is
just a big rock,” Hagen said, kicking at it.
Black Gull Rock was rough and dark and resembled a large stone haystack sitting on a platter. It was not really even large enough to be called an island—in point of fact it was barely bigger than my bedchamber, and far more precarious to walk around—and the thought of being left on it was making me increasingly nervous. I wiped my sweaty palms on my tunic and watched the men unloading the longboat closely. The waves caused the boat to bob up and down, and several times the men were in danger of either smashing the hull into the rock or dropping our luggage into the water.
Some little ways off, the ship that had brought us here was anchored, the crew gathered on the rails to watch. Whether they were waiting for a rogue wave to sweep us into the ocean or eager to see a dragon up close, I didn’t know, but their scrutiny was making me more self- conscious.
What if Shardas didn’t come? What if the clouds on the horizon were a storm that would send us all to our deaths?
Luka put his arms around me. “Stop worrying,” he said. “Shardas will be here.”
Just then Hagen leaped forward and grabbed a basket from one of the men before it plunged into the water. The sailor who had been passing it over looked chagrined, and muttered a “thanks” that was lost in the crash of the waves. When I saw which basket it was, my heart did a little flip. I snatched it from my brother and held it to my chest awkwardly, since it was the size of a barrel and I couldn’t fit my arms around it.
Hagen’s eyes widened. “Is that your wedding gown?”
“Yes!” I clutched it tighter. I should have lined the inside of the basket with oilskin, but I had been more concerned about running out of thread, and hadn’t thought about what to do if the basket fell into the ocean.
Shouting from the ship caught our attention, and we looked to see the sailors waving their caps and pointing at the sky. Those in the longboat now began frantically rowing back to the ship, looking less thrilled than their fellows. A shadow darkened the sky, and I looked up to see three dragons circling overhead: gold, green, and scarlet.
I set my basket down and waved to them, cheering and shouting greetings, and Luka joined me. Hagen gave a tentative wave, and looked pale. I shot him a grin, and went on waving to my friends as they settled in the water like stately ships.
Feniul, green as grass from his nose down to the tips of his claws, immediately began to talk. “Creel! So marvelous! Here we are! You remember Ria? My mate, Ria?”
The scarlet dragon, Ria, bobbed in the water and nodded to me. “Hello, my dear.”
“Hello, Feniul! Hello, Ria!” I turned to the largest dragon, the gold dragon with his sapphire horns and gleaming blue eyes. “Hello, Shardas!”
“Creel,” he said in his huge voice. “It is so good to see you in person once more.” For the past year we had been talking through pools of water, which the dragons could transform into a mode of communication.
I couldn’t stop laughing with delight at seeing my friends. “This is my brother, Hagen!” I yanked his arm until he came forward and bowed awkwardly. The dragons were genuinely pleased to meet him, and Shardas’s praise for Hagen’s careful keeping of Theoradus’s hoard made my brother’s ears turn pink.
Feniul was absolutely bursting with news: he and Ria had had seven hatchlings, which I knew, but as a proud father he wanted to tell me about each of them and their most recent accomplishments. He described their home to me, and hinted that there were surprises I could never imagine waiting on the Far Isles.
Before I could winkle the surprises out of Feniul, Shardas turned and looked over at the lowering clouds. “We should go, quickly.”
Shardas and Feniul gripped the edge of the rock and we scrambled over their shoulders to fasten our luggage to the sharp spines running down their backs. Luka and Hagen climbed onto Ria, but Shardas indicated that I should mount him, just between the basket that held my wedding gown and the one that contained the sealed buckets of black sand.
“We have a great deal to talk about,” Shardas said.
I blew Luka a kiss before Ria took off, kicking seawater at me with her hind legs; then I clambered onto Shardas, hooting with joy at the thrill of flying again as he shot into the air. We circled the ship once, waving and calling down to the sailors, then headed south and east, toward the previously uninhabited islands that the dragons had claimed for their own.
“How far away are they?” I squinted, wondering how soon I would be able to see the Far Isles. There was nothing but blue water in every direction, and the ocean winds made the dragons soar at great speed.
Shardas’s laugh vibrated my entire body. “Farther than you can see. Well beyond the horizon.”
“Oh.” I settled back, disappointed.
“Don’t worry,” he assured me. “It is worth the journey.”
Whatever reply I might have made was whipped from my lips as the dragons surged forward, toward the edge of the world where the sky and the waves met, and beyond.
A
fter four days of flying, stopping only at night to eat and sleep on bleak islets not much larger than Black Gull Rock, we at last reached the Far Isles. No humans lived there, because the outer ring of islands were rough and inhospitable. Waves crashed against jagged rocks where only a few strands of sea grass grew and nothing but ornery-looking gulls ever took up residence. Because of the tides it was possible for ships to anchor there only a few months out of the year, Shardas told me. And he had never heard of anyone attempting the dangerous passage beyond the outer ring of tightly grouped islands. No one believed there was anything there worth the risk to discover.
This was what made the dragons’ new home so safe. We, however, didn’t have to anchor on the jagged shore; we simply flew over the barren mountains to the paradise beyond. Hidden by their ugly cousins was an inner ring of islands, the sight of which took my breath away.
The passage between the outer and inner islands softened the ocean break so that the water washed with gentle blueness on the white sand of the inner islands. Amidst the blue waters, like many- colored jewels, were the true Far Isles, as beautiful and welcoming as Shardas had described them. I squinted in the bright sunshine, taking in the vision before me and committing it to memory. I thought perhaps I might re- create it with cloth and embroidery silk, for it surely deserved such a tribute. I wondered, though, if I would be able to find the subtle greens, of which there were nearly a dozen different shades among my threads, or match that particular combination of turquoise water and creamy white sands.
The dragons veered left, taking us toward the largest of the islands. A gentle mountain, green with life, sloped up on one side, and past the white beach the trees were so thick that nothing else could be seen.
Until the dragons started to appear. They swooped out of the clouds around us, they trailed out of the jungle, they burst from the waves and shot spouts of water into the air as Luka and I cried out delighted greetings to old friends. Much of the exuberance came from the young ones: both hatchlings born in the last year, and those just slightly older. They raced around us in circles and called out to their parents in excitement. As we came in to land on the beach, I realized I had tears running down my cheeks. Seeing so many dragons, safe and happy together, filled my heart until it spilled out in the form of happy tears.
Luka understood, and when he climbed down from Ria and saw my wet face he gave me a tight hug. Shardas and Ria snorted their hot breath at me, their eyes bright with shared emotion.
Feniul just dithered.
“We were planning on only two human guests, of course . . . not that you aren’t more than welcome, Hagen. But you’ll have to share a hut with Luka, and it is rather small. Just temporary, you know, but still . . .”
“Feniul,” his mate said with infinite patience, “why don’t you round up our hatchlings to introduce them?”
And so we were introduced to Feniul and Ria’s hatchlings, all green and red and yellow, and absolutely full of energy. We were greeted by Amacarin, the second dragon I had ever exchanged words with, and his mate, Gala. Amacarin had been the particular friend of Theoradus of Carlieff, but he and I were on good terms despite his initial desire to help Theoradus roast and eat me.
Gala, who had been freed from the Citatian army the year before, had several almost-grown hatchlings, and was proud to report that in a few weeks’ time she and Amacarin would celebrate the hatching of a fine batch of six eggs. I congratulated them sincerely; the dragons of Feravel had been so isolated that I knew Amacarin had despaired of ever finding a mate, let alone siring children.
Stately, green Niva with her alchemist mate, Leontes, and their children came forward next. She had been an ally since the First Dragon War, a staunch supporter of Shardas and Velika, and had risked capture to help us spy on the Citatians during the second war. I had never met her mate before, though. He was the same size as she, with striking yellow and violet scales and a twinkling good humor in his eyes, at odds with his mate’s often severe nature.
Then came Darrym, another dragon we had rescued from the Citatian army. He was an anomaly here: next to his peacock-bright and cottage-sized fellows, Darrym was perhaps the size of a large hay cart, and a muddy brown and green color that made his scales look dull and perpetually dirty. I didn’t know where he was from, and my limited knowledge of geography made it rather useless for me to ask, but I wondered now if he were the product of Krashath’s horrid breeding program, which had been formed in an effort to swell the ranks of the Citatian army as rapidly as possible.
Bobbing up and down in front of me, Darrym seemed distracted, and asked twice if I had seen Velika yet. I shared his distraction. I, too, was anxious about Shardas’s beloved mate.
“No, no, I haven’t,” I told him.
Velika had not had an easy life, though she was strong. She had befriended King Milun the First hundreds of years ago, only to be betrayed by him. He had cut the skin from her breast to make a pair of slippers that could control any dragons within a thousand leagues, and trapped her in the caverns beneath the King’s Seat. She had emerged from that prison only to dive into the Boiling Sea to destroy the slippers.
Badly burned himself, Shardas had cared for her in hiding until his brother, Krashath, had threatened us all by raising an army of dragons. What Krashath had wanted was Velika herself, who, as the queen of the dragons, was the key to ruling them all.
“Creel, Luka, Hagen: she is coming,” Shardas said now, his voice brimming with an emotion that I couldn’t place. He turned and looked toward the jungle, and I saw a dragon-sized path cut through the trees.