The Pygmy Dragon (15 page)

“Smell that food,” groaned Maylin. “I could eat a whole ralti sheep myself.”

Pip goggled. She had only just seen her first ralti sheep grazing near the kitchen that week. The sheep had been seven feet tall at the shoulder, an ambulatory boulder with improbably short black legs. It was probably sizzling under a Dragon-sized grill right now.

“I could eat like a Dragon,” agreed Duri, who was sitting opposite Kaiatha.

Pip grinned at him. “Did I tell you about the time Zardon ate over two hundred blackwing stork eggs?”

“Oh, do you have to bring up the fact that you’ve flown on a Dragon, again?” Yaethi sniped, rather more waspishly than Pip thought necessary.

“Don’t listen to her. Yaethi’s talking Dragon farts,” Maylin put in. “Sulphurous, suppurating Dragon farts.”

Yaethi flashed her a blistering glare across the table.

Just then, a bugle began to blast somewhere outside the hall. Pandemonium ensued as the confused students shouted and joked and looked for the source of the commotion.

“Silence!” thundered Master Kassik. His voice stilled the entire hall–some kind of magic, Pip realised. “It’s a lockdown. Students, sit still and keep quiet. Masters and Journeymen, to your posts.”

“A lockdown?” Pip whispered to Kaiatha, growing alarmed as the doors began to slam shut. A number of the Masters raced outside before the hall’s main doors were barred and locked.

“You missed the orientation,” she whispered back. “It’s an alarm.”

“Or an attack. How exciting,” said Maylin.

The students nearest the windows made a rush for the barred crysglass, pressing their noses against the panes. Immediately, cries of excitement and disbelief rose from those who could see.

“What’s that?”

“Islands, it’s an Ape!”

“No way, that’s a Dragon.”

“It’s a giant Ape, stupid.”

Suddenly, Pip had a sickening realisation. She leaped up onto a table, but still could not see over the crowd. “Duri! Lift me up.”

He stared at her. Several of the Journeymen shouted for the students to calm down.

“They’ll send out a Dragon,” Pip heard someone say.

A Dragon? Pip gasped as Duri hoisted her into the air. Her eyes leaped frantically from window to window. There, peaceably ambling across the open field, was Hunagu.

Oh, no …

“Oh, yes!” shouted one of the Mentors. “Here comes Shimmerith, everyone.”

W
rigglinG out of
Durithion’s grasp, Pip leaped down from the table and raced for the main doors, where Journeyman Gelka stood guard. Who else?

Pip gasped, “Journeyman, please, I need to get out, it’s my friend.”

“No students outside in a lockdown.”

“I need to! Please. Open the door. Make them open it.”

Framing his words as if she were the greatest idiot in the Island-World, Gelka repeated, “No students outside in a lockdown. Student Pip, the Dragons will take care of this. Return to your seat.”

Pip spun on her heel, frantically searching for a way out. All of the doors were locked. The windows were barred. The entire student body of Dragon Rider Academy was, in fact and in deed, held prisoner in the hall.

Nearby, a Journeyman said, “This is going to be great. Shimmerith will gut that beast like a luckless rat.”

Tearing at her hair, Pip wailed, “Let me out, please!”

Someone shook her shoulder. “Pip, calm down. What’s wrong?”

All she could think of was big, gentle Hunagu out there on the grass, while a Dragon’s claws and fangs ripped into him. “I have to get out there.”

“Pip.” Durithion held her shoulders. “What is it?”

Through streaming tears, she screamed, “He’s my friend and they’re going to kill him!”

“Your … oh, great Islands, it’s the Oraial from the zoo, isn’t it?”

Duri began to yell at the Journeyman, too. But he refused to listen, as stony-faced as only Journeyman Gelka could be. Pip sank to her knees, grinding her teeth together. The pain! The pain within her was too great, the fear of loss so deep and intense, that it threatened to kill her. The hubbub of the dining hall gathered into a swirling storm, battering her ears without respite, raging through her mind and sweeping away all reason and restraint.

She surged to her feet, brushing Durithion’s hand aside. There was a word growing inside of her, a word of enormous consequence; a word that burned with unstoppable power.

Taking a single step forward, Pip reached past Gelka to lay her right palm flat against the massive, five-inch-thick jalkwood doors of the dining hall. Power burned lava-hot within her. Her arm jerked back, her fingers balled into a steely fist. She roared,
Smash!
The door exploded outward from the locus of her blow. A shower of jalkwood splinters narrowly missed impaling the Master standing on the far side. The entire sixty-foot panel sagged crazily on its hinges.

Pip darted into the entryway. She sprinted across the wide portico area, blazing past several Journeymen watching the spectacle of Shimmerith plummeting toward the Oraial Ape. Hunagu stood in the open, unaware of any danger, scenting the breeze, searching for his friend. Catching sight of her, his broad, placid face broke into a beaming grin.

Her speed was not enough. No Human speed could have been. Shimmerith’s wings flared, her hind legs extending, all ten claws sliding free of their sheaths as she swooped in for the kill.

Too slowly, as if in a dream, Pip stretched out her arm. A second word, more a plea than a command, ripped free of her throat.
Stop.
It was not even her language. It was not a language she knew.

The world faded. Pip was dimly aware of stumbling, falling on the flagstones, skinning her knees and palms as she lost control of her muscles. She came round–it could only have been seconds, because fresh crimson welled from a cut on her palm as she watched–and rose dizzily to her feet. Hunagu! She had to reach Hunagu before Shimmer … Pip stumbled in confusion. She stared stupidly at the scene before her. Hunagu and Shimmerith were frozen like flies in amber, the Dragon caught mid-air in the act of thrusting her talons into the Oraial’s spine; Hunagu with a half-smile of recognition pasted onto his lips as he gazed in her direction.

She rasped the first thing that came to mind. “Uh … Hunagu, come here.”

The Ape jerked into motion. “Pip! I found you.”

Pip shook her head, dumbfounded. What was holding Shimmerith aloft? There was a roaring in her ears, a sheath of ice encasing her spine. Magic? Of all the weird and inexplicable things which had happened in her life, this had to be the strangest of all. Everything about Shimmerith was perfect and deadly, from the flare of her wings, to the angle of her claws and the snarl pulling her lips back from her fangs as she focussed on the spot where the Ape had been. Yet she hung mid-air as if suspended by invisible ropes.

Hunagu swept her up into his great arms. Here came Master Adak on the run, his sword held left-handed, his right arm still in a light sling as he angled for the Ape.

“Stop,” she called in Pygmy. “It’s alright. Hunagu and I are friends.” And to the watching Masters and Journeymen, she called, “Everyone, simmer down. Shimmerith? Be free.”

This time, the words were unimportant. The sentiment was. As if she had released a taut rope from her mind, Pip suddenly felt relieved.

Behind Hunagu, Shimmerith slammed into the ground with the grace of a flying boulder–robbed of her prey, her strike went away. She whirled, tearing up great clods of earth with her claws as she oriented on her target.

“Shimmerith, wait,” called Pip. It was useless. A quiver ran the length of the Dragon’s body. She coiled in an eye-blink.
Stop!

Next she knew, she was cradled in Hunagu’s arm, his thick fingers tapping her cheek. “Pip sleep? Good-good?”

Several hundred students and staff had gathered on the portico to gape at her in amazement. She wriggled free of the Ape’s grasp. “I-I … roaring rajals. I have to free Shimmerith.”

Master Kassik, who had been advancing toward her, halted. “Do that, Pip.”

His command was dry and crisp, a single sound in the ringing silence. Everyone else stood stunned as Pip walked quickly toward the frozen-in-time Dragon.

Incredible.

“Shimmerith, it’s me, Pip,” she said. The words came so uneasily. “I’m so sorry. The Ape is safe. He’s my friend. Can you behave yourself now, before … before I put your scaly backside over my knee and paddle it like the naughty little Dragon you are?” She grinned at her joke. Why, she could even add a finger-wagging telling-off for the Dragon. “I’m going to release you now. Behave, or this Pygmy girl will teach you a lesson.”

With that, Pip broke the thread a second time. Magic teased her senses. Here came two more Dragons, plummeting from the sky at a breathtaking speed–but her gaze flickered to Shimmerith, still coiled in readiness, smoke curling from her nostrils, her jewelled eyes narrowed in calculation. When she did not move, Pip exhaled.

That was when Shimmerith snapped at her.

Dragons had unbelievable reflexes, she had read–and seen, in Zardon. But he was an elderly Dragon. Shimmerith was young, razor-sharp and understandably peeved at the high-handed treatment she had just received. Pip’s response was pure instinct. She flung an elbow backward, behind her shoulder, roaring the same word she had used on the door.

Seventy feet of Dragon shuddered right down to her paws as the Pygmy girl’s elbow smashed into her muzzle.

Shimmerith’s chin punched her to the ground. Blackness folded in toward her. Through the closing tunnel, she saw another Dragon above her, roaring, spitting fire, his claws striking for her neck, and Hunagu! The Oraial hurled his tonnage into the fray, knocking the rending claw-stroke a vital foot aside. That was the last she remembered.

*  *  *  *

Voices intruded on her dream. The Shadow Dragon had been singing to her, a soft, seductive song. Pip nearly vomited at the memory. But now she heard a familiar voice nearby.

“It’s a war council, Kassik.”

“Your Fellowship of Fra’anior? What’s blowing on the wind, old friend?”

“That’s exactly the problem. I don’t know. There are rumours about rumours–but all of them speak of trouble, evil and strife. I’ll wager you Jeradia Island to a rajal’s snarl, it has something to do with that girl.”

“Ay,” said Master Kassik. “You never knew she had powers, Balthion?”

Pip wanted to leap off the bed in joy, but something held her back–and she was too weak to move a muscle. Her head throbbed dully, and her throat ached in a way that suggested the pain had been dampened by medicine.

“No inkling. I don’t possess your powers, Kassik. Few do.”

“You trained her well enough. She broke my Weapons Master’s arm in training.”

Balthion said, in troubled tones, “How does a four-foot Pygmy girl knock the stuffing out of a seventy-foot Dragon? Her Rider Nak is going to kill her.”

“He’ll have to stand in line,” Kassik said, dryly. “The Dragon Elders have demanded that she face the Council.”

“Where’s Zardon?”

“Chasing those rumours. Couldn’t think of a better Dragon to–she’s awake.”

Pip, who had been lying very still as she eavesdropped on their conversation, sighed and opened her eyes. She tried to sit up, but a chain linking her left wrist to the bed-frame pulled her up short. She glanced about, finding herself in the infirmary. Oyda and Rajion worked on a patient nearby–Hunagu. Her heart faltered in her chest. Master Kassik smiled severely at her. Master Balthion stumped over, leaning heavily on his cane.

“Islands’ greetings, Pipsqueak,” he said, very softly. Pip saw his throat bob, swallowing a lump of emotion which thickened his voice. “I hear you’ve been giving my old friend grey hairs?”

Balthion and Kassik were friends? She had never worked that out.

The bed creaked as he sat. They embraced.

“How’s Hunagu, Master? I’m terribly sorry I ran away.” She wrinkled her nose at him in the Pygmy way, brimming with joy like a river swollen with good rains. “Actually, I didn’t, because Zardon kidnapped me. He’s rather hard to argue with, Master. And I’m so sorry I didn’t write immediately, but I didn’t think–”

“Pip.” He gazed at her fondly. “Slow down. I’m so delighted to find you here. Are you well?”

“Very, thank you, Master. And your family? Shullia? Arosia?”

“All well.” Balthion smiled, but it was clear from the set of his mouth that all was not well. “Now, time is short, Pip. Kassik and I need to hear everything from you–exactly what Zardon said, and what you saw of this creature.”

“Is it bad, Master?”

Kassik folded his tall frame onto a stool at her bedside. “Pip, we fear one of the Ancient Powers–the Dragons of old–has returned to the Island-World, and seeks to dominate or destroy it. Little is known of the Dragons who shaped our world, nor why those ancient ones died out, or left, or hid themselves from us. It is a grave matter. That is what Zardon flies to investigate; it is why we need to understand what you saw, Pip, and who you are. Will you help us?”

She wished they might have been joking, but what she read in their expressions struck stark fear into her heart. “Of course, Masters.”

“Pip, the powers you demonstrated are exceptional, even amongst Dragons.” Kassik paused as if to choose his words with care. “Especially how you stopped Shimmerith’s attack–that power is called a Word of Command, and it is said that only the greatest of Dragon magicians knew how to use it. There is no living Dragon who possesses that power, it is that rare. Some fear that the wrong word could unmake our world.”

Balthion nodded. “The words you spoke come from a language not even the Dragons understand. Much Dragon lore has been lost, Pip. We hope that the Dragon Elders will help you in this, and not seek to harm or contain you.”

Pip wished that their words were less grave, less like hammer-blows to the foundations of her existence. What she had needed to do had seemed so clear, then. Now, she stared into a troubled pool of fear and despair. “Master Kassik, why am I chained like this?”

He grimaced. “The Elders requested it. You see, we have an agreement that any Dragon who harms a student, should stand trial before a Council of Humans.”

“He’s never had a student harm a Dragon,” Balthion put in.

“Ridiculous idea,” said Kassik.

“Until today,” Master Balthion shot back. “You’ve shaken the Dragons, Pipsqueak. I’ve never seen such a gnashing of fangs and a flapping of wings.”

Balthion’s dour assessment brought brief smiles to the two Masters’ faces. Pip had a sense of how comfortable they were with each other. It seemed to her that between them, any truth could be spoken without fear.

“Quoting that agreement, the Dragons have demanded that you stand trial before the seven Dragon Elders, Pip,” said Kassik. “Some may speak for you. Some will speak against you. They will confer before making their judgement, or punishment. Pip, you not only defeated and embarrassed a Dragon, but you were foolish enough to insult her in the doing. Dragons are proud and noble creatures. They are not put over any Human’s knee or ‘taught a lesson’.”

Pip hung her head, knowing she deserved his reproof. “I’m sorry, Master.”

“Not half as sorry as those Dragons will make you.”

Great Islands, she had contrived to make an even bigger mess than ever before. The little Pygmy storm was in full spate. Pip gritted her teeth. “Um, Master, how is Shimmerith?”

“Recovering,” said Kassik. “You broke her fang at the root, split her lip open and knocked her unconscious for a few minutes. Emblazon tried to rip you apart, but Hunagu intervened, luckily for you. Oyda is stitching up his wounds a second time.”