The Last Dragon Chronicles: The Fire Ascending (5 page)

stay in the krofft with Eleanor until the

coming ugliness was done.

“But I will seem a coward in front of

Grella!”

“You will be little use dead,” Yolen chided. “Not even as goat feed.”

“I can fight as well as any man!” I showed him my arm, growing rounder and firmer with every passing day.

“You’re a boy,” he said. “And you will do as I command.”

And that was an end to it.

But he did at least allow me to wander

the settlement. And in the hour before the

moon, when darkness was upon us and the mood over Taan was strangely subdued, I found myself walking near the edge of the site. It was there that I came upon a

tumbledown dwelling, buried among an isolated thicket of pines. A place so badly in need of repair that its occupants were surely wood chewers or rats. Yet there was a wisp of smoke from its chimney and a candle guttering weakly within. The door was bent and ajar. A crackling noise was passing out through the gap. I peered inside and saw a pair of hands resting on a pair of knees. Then a man’s voice croaked, “Come in, Agawin. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“W-who are you? H-how do you know me?” I stepped back from the door a little. I was sure I hadn’t been seen. And other

than Rune’s family, who among the Taan

tribe knew my name?

“I have seen the dragon that speaks

through you,” he said.

A terrible shudder ran down my arms.

“Are you a seer?”

“I am Brunne. Some call me seer. Some

call me weak in the head. Perhaps I am, to be speaking to a
 
boy
 
of a creature that can shape the future – on parchment.”

That was all the enticement I needed. I

stepped in, leaving the door a little wider – if only to allow the escape of foul air. The place was repugnant with the smell of sweating fish. So rank that I had to pull my robe across my mouth. The seer, Brunne, rocked in his creaking chair. He was old and his eyes were like smooth white pebbles. I did not remember seeing him at the motested, and someone must have guided him back. For when I passed my

hand across his crumpled face the eyes refused to flicker or follow. But I learned

that day that even a man who appears to be blind might see with the other senses he possesses. My heart almost stopped when his hand came up and he clamped my arm with the strength of a bear.

“Evil has settled on this world,” he rasped.

His fingers were bound like rope to my flesh. Through them flowed an energy that crept along my arm and wove itself into my twitching neck. I could feel it running all through my head, like the roots of a plant might spread into the ground. A fine dust began to sting my eyes. The reek of oil from his mouth was horrendous.

“I am n-not a follower of Voss,” I

stuttered, thinking this was a test of my loyalty.

The old man grunted and let me go. I fell to the floor, startled by the sound of fish bones breaking against my hands. The runners of his chair came down to crush

more. Now I understood the crackle – and

the dust.

“Voss is nothing,” he said.

Then why was every man sharpening a blade, about to risk his life in battle with him? “I am told he wields a dark power,” I said, remembering Rune’s description in the krofft.

“Or it wields him,” Brunne said oddly. “Voss is in the grip of a shadow.”

I rose to my feet. The man and his odour made my gut wrench. Even so I spoke up

boldly. “A shadow is naught but a product of the light.” Yolen had often soothed me thus when the shadows of the cave had

tricked me as a child.

“Spoken like a wise apprentice,” said Brunne. His lips creased into a smile. He leaned forward. The crackling instantly stopped. “Tell me, boy, does light have auma?”

I looked at the candle flame, bending tothe window as if it too would be glad toescape. “Gaia blesses all things withauma,” I said. “Why should light be anydifferent?”

Brunne, I thought, gave a satisfied nod. “And which has more: light or fire?”

In the distance, I heard poor Galen roar. Was the dragon speaking to the rising

moon? I must be done here soon. I wanted

to see Yolen before the men left. “I do not

know. What has this to do with Voss?”

“When you can answer this question,” he said, “you will illuminate the shadow in Voss and be a thousand-fold superior to him.”

A hard wind whistled through the opendoorway. Every panel in the derelictkrofft began to groan. I did not wish to becrushed among fish bones, but my boyishcuriosity would not take me out of there. “Teach me what I need to know, seer

Brunne.”

He sat back, pressing his fingertipstogether. “You are already learning, Agawin. The tornaq has shown you theway.”

“How do you know about the tornaq?” I pressed. “Are you in league with Hilde?”

Brunne spluttered with laughter. He filled the air with another coarse belch.

“Hilde would gladly empty my veins in search of the wisdom that I protect. The tornaq is not the sibyl’s to command. It will leave her when its work is done.”

Leave her? Was the tornaq alive? Ithought back to my time by the river. How
had
 
the charm returned to Hilde? “Is it

yours?” I asked. “Does it watch her for you?”

He tilted his head, but refused to answer. “You are a most unusual boy. What did the dragon reveal to you?”

Now was my chance to be a little wary, but I had nothing to gain by withholding

the truth. “I saw it write,” I said. “It made a mark on the parchment. The same threelined mark that was on the tornaq. After that I saw a host of terrible things. Vile creatures made in the image of dragons. Darkness. A shadow on the land. Death.”

“And it all begins here… with Voss,”

Brunne muttered.

“If he slays Galen, will my vision come to pass?”

Brunne put back his head and spoke a strange reply. “Sometimes,” he said.

And oh, how my heart missed a giant beat. And I realised then that Brunne might well have let go of my arm, but he had not entirely let go of my mind. Some part of him, some part not really a man, was exploring me and seeking to take a hold.

“Are you Premen?” I asked the seer.

His lips parted and he took in a ghastly breath, as if a spear of ice had been passed through his heart. His dreadful eyeballs swivelled and locked. In one of them, a roving centre appeared, more hideous than the egg that had been there before. “Not for very much longer,” he croaked.

“What’s the matter?” I asked. “Brunne, what do you mean?” His hands were shaking on the arms of his chair.

“Come   closer,   boy.   A   devil approaches.”

A devil? What was he talking about?

“You   need   to   understand   the

enchantments of time.”

Time? What secrets did
 
time
 
hold?

Every day, my fingernails grew a littlemore or the grass in the meadows rose alittle higher or another of Yolen’s hairsturned to grey. Time was a simplemeasure of change. The whole worldmoving forward as one.

I stepped towards him. But in thatinstant he seemed to change his mind. Heswiftly raised a hand and some forcepushed me back into the shadows of thekrofft. He gave out a groaning sound likenothing I had heard from man or beastbefore – a rasp that rattled every bone inhis chest, followed by a shudder thatseemed to expel something more than airfrom his lungs. I gasped and covered myface. Whatever Brunne had concealed

within his body was now in mine and

sheltering there. The last thing I heard him say to me was this: “Keep Galen within your sight.”

The door opened and a hooded figure stepped in. I could not tell if it was man or woman, but it seemed to know there were fishbones on the floor. I saw the figure pick up the full skeleton of a fish and draw it fast across Brunne’s throat. The seer

made a gentle gurgling noise. His head fell forward onto his chest. A dark stain ran

down his shabby clothing.

The figure threw the fishbone aside and

left.

For several moments, I was toopetrified to move. Then I crept forwardand shook Brunne’s shoulder. His bodyslumped forward and tipped from the

chair. I heard the zip of an arrow, and the next thing I knew the roof was alight. Through the open door, I saw the hooded figure running for the trees. The building burned while I gathered my senses. Then I started to shout. “Fire! Fire!” And I ran to

Rune’s krofft.

I burst in, calling for Yolen and Rune. Eleanor was on her knees trying to stirthem. Both men were on the floor, snoringlike dogs.

“What happened?” I gasped.

“They collapsed in a stupor. I can’trevive them.” Foam was frothing on Rune’s red lips. Yolen looked calm, butdeeply asleep.

By now, I could hear a great clamouroutside. I dived for the shutters and threw

them wide. Women were running from krofft to krofft, calling to each other about their men. I saw a Horste man slumped against a water trough. A pan of water in the face could not bring him round. Nor could a hefty kick in the ribs. A woman

span  past   me,   clutching  her  hair. “Sorcery!” she wailed. “A sibyl’s work!” All the men who had drunk from Hilde’s

potion were asleep.

Slowly, the settlement realised it had

been tricked.

“Eleanor, where is Grella?” I panted.

The worry in her pretty eyes gave me my answer: already taken, by Hilde.

“I need food,” I said urgently. I opened the backpack I’d brought from the cave and looked around the krofft for anything I

could eat. There was meat on a table and

apples in a basket. I packed as much as I thought I could carry. I bent over Yolen and kissed his head. “Forgive me, but I must go.” I slid Rune’s hunting knife from his belt.

“No!” Eleanor blocked the doorway. “The sibyl will kill you, even if Voss doesn’t.”

I looked at this beautiful, sad-eyedwoman and wished, in part, she couldhave been my mother. “Brunne is dead. Isaw him slain. His dwelling is alight. Allthe world is in peril. You must let me go.”

These words of heroism tumbled off mylips, but it felt like another boy wasspeaking them. Whatever life force Brunnehad just breathed into me seemed to have

swelled me with courage – or madness. I had no idea how to avenge the old man or save a young girl I barely knew. But I glimpsed through the shutter and saw the moon rising and an idea suddenly sprang upon me. “I’m going to hail the dragon. Galen will defeat Voss and bring Grella home.”

Eleanor rested her palms on my face. “Agawin, brave boy, listen to me. Ahundred years ago, what you are sayingmight have been possible. But there aretoo many tales now of dragons beingcruelly mistreated by men. Galen will notcome to your aid. He will flame you asreadily as he would burn Voss. All thecreature wants is to die in peace.”

“It can die when Grella is safe,” I said.

“What peace will it have with Voss on its trail?” I moved for the door but she

blocked me again.

“Very well. If I cannot stop you, let me tell you what little I know about dragons and give you two things that might aid your quest.” She walked to the wall and pulled down a tapestry. It showed a truly magnificent dragon, as monstrous and terrifying as it was stunning. “This is Grella’s favourite. She says it is a queen.”

A   female.   The   fiercest   of   all

dragonkind. On the bottom of the tapestry the girl had stitched a name. ‘GAWAINE’.

“How does she know this beast?”

Eleanor lifted her shoulders. “She

claims they are real in her mind. They come to her on the wings of time. I’ve

never known what she means by that, but perhaps this queen will be a charm to Galen. Take it. Keep it near to your heart. Pray that it brings you strength.”

“And the second thing?”

She walked to the fireplace and reached for the bow. She fetched arrows as well in

a sling for my shoulder. “The swiftest way to Kasgerden is through the Skoga forest. But you must swear to me you will not enter that place.”

“Voss has cleared it of skogkatts,” I said, but the moment those words were out of my mouth, my new sense of being questioned their validity. After the deceit in the motested, why should I believe any of Hilde’s claims?

“Use the edge of the forest as a guide,”

Eleanor said. “Keep it on your right handand it will eventually lead you to apathway up the mountain. The peak iswell-hidden till the final climb, but by thetime you see its point against a clear sky,the dragon will know you are there.

“If you travel without sleep, you willreach the first trees by morning. After that,you have no more than two days to catchup with Voss. A dying dragon likes towait until the moon is fully round before itcommits itself to Gaia. The moon is