Dragon Flight (4 page)

“You’d think the king would have been a bit more gracious,” I muttered to myself as we carried the pieces of Isla’s wardrobe into the shop. “After all, I offered to be tangled up in this. It’s my neck that’s sticking out.”

Marta, whom I hadn’t yet told about the council, looked at me wide-eyed. “Tangled up in what? Oh, Creel! What did you say to the king this time?!”

As I had suspected, Niva was not easy to persuade. She, Feniul and Amacarin had agreed to meet me at a clearing near Feniul’s cave in the Rath Forest, but neither Niva nor Amacarin looked interested in spying on the Citatians.

“It’s clear what has happened,” Niva said, buffing one of her talons with a rock. “The leader of the Citatians has a pair of dragonskin slippers and is using them to control the dragons. If we were to go there, we would fall under their thrall as well. Out of the question.”

“We still have collars,” I argued. “You would be protected.” A stack of collars, woven from silk and infused with herbs and a special wax, resided in a chest in my room.

Niva shuddered, rattling the scales along her shoulders. “I did not particularly relish the sensation of being collared before, Creelisel. I plan on never repeating it.”

“But what about the Citatian dragons?” I wheedled. “They need our help!”

“I don’t know any Citatian dragons,” Amacarin said. “I really don’t care what happens to them.”

“I don’t know any either,” I began, “but –”

“Then you should forget about it too,” Amacarin said. He spread his wings prior to taking off.

“But I can’t just forget about it,” I protested. “What’s happening there is wrong. And what’s going to happen when they conquer Feravel? It will be your problem when they’re standing outside your cave! When the Citatian king arrives with his slippers, and you start to feel the compulsion to obey him, you’ll regret not having helped to stop it before it got out of hand.”

“Perhaps,” Niva said. “And when that happens, I will do my best to find you and accept a collar to fight the alchemy at work. But until then, good day.” And she, too, got ready to fly.

“Cowards!” I shouted, clenching my fists. “Shardas would help.”

“Shardas is dead,” Amacarin said, and he leaped into the sky.

Opening my mouth, I started to tell them that Shardas was not dead, but Feniul nudged me in the back with his nose. I went sprawling face-first into the leaf-strewn grass. The incident had the effect of stopping Niva mid-takeoff, and she hovered over me.

“Creel, are you hurt? Feniul, what on earth were you trying to do?” Settling to the ground, she delicately lifted me to my feet with one foreclaw. “Just because we don’t
support human politics is no reason to be rude,” she scolded him.

“I wasn’t trying to be rude,” Feniul protested. “I was just … it was purely an accident … and she, er, well …”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” I said, straightening my gown and trying to brush the leaves out of my hair. “He was only … I mean, it was nothing.” Feniul and I exchanged guilty looks.

Niva, no fool, sat back on her haunches and surveyed the pair of us through narrowed golden eyes. Her tongue flickered out, and she tilted her head to one side, her green scales gleaming in the sunlight that filtered down into the clearing.

“What do you two know? You clearly know something. Creel, you mentioned Shardas, and then Feniul shoved you into a pile of leaves.”

“It was an accident,” Feniul wailed.

“Why shouldn’t I mention Shardas?” I put in. “He and I are friends.”

“
Are
?” Niva’s voice was soft.

I felt myself pale, and began to beat at my divided skirts as though they were on fire rather than just dirty. Feniul scraped long furrows in the soft earth with his talons, then pretended that he was just stretching.

“Shardas survived?” Niva’s voice rasped with incredulity. “Where is he?”

“Well, they’re still very weak,” I said.

Flame shot out of Niva’s mouth. I dodged to one side, and the tree behind me burned merrily. Without looking, Niva reached out and smashed it to the ground with her claws, smothering the flames.

“They? The queen, too?” The green dragon’s great voice was hardly more than a whisper.

“They were very badly injured,” I said.

“Take me to them.”

“We’re not supposed to tell anyone,” Feniul dithered. “If we take her, then –”

I sucked in a breath and blew it out. “It’s not like she’s an enemy, Feniul,” I said. I gestured to Niva’s side. “May I?”

She lowered herself so that I could mount. “Feniul, lead us,” she ordered.

He heaved a great sigh and gathered himself. “Shardas won’t like it.”

“I don’t care,” Niva said.

We flew to the lake where Shardas and Velika were hiding. Shardas himself was lying on the pebbled beach in the sun when we arrived. Looking up and seeing two dragons circling overhead, he crouched in a defensive position in front of the cave mouth. But after we landed and I hailed him, he relaxed. Slightly.

“Shardas the Gold,” Niva said with deep respect. She bowed her head until the tip of her nose touched the shore.

“Niva Saffron-Wing.” He nodded politely, but his
blue eyes were on me as I slithered off her back. “Creel.” His voice held a welcome and a warning.

“I tried to stop them,” Feniul fretted.

“I’m sure you did, Feniul. But Creel is hard to stop once she gets going,” Shardas said. I was cheered by the trace of amusement in his voice.

“You need have no fear on my account,” Niva said, very proper, as she always was. “I would not dream of revealing you to anyone.”

“Thank you, Niva.”

“Then why did you have to come?” Feniul was still shuffling around, snorting and looking upset.

“To see with my own eyes that our king lives.” Her voice faltered. “And … our queen?”

“She is within,” Shardas said, gesturing to the cave that he still guarded. “She does not receive visitors.”

“Of course not.” Niva’s head bobbed in agreement, and I thought her eyes shone with happiness or something like it.

“May I ask how you came to reveal our … continued existence?” Shardas looked at me gravely.

It occurred to me that this was the best possible chance for me to gain draconic support for my mission. Shardas, though he did like to avoid humans, was intelligent enough to know when he needed to intervene in their affairs. Even if he wouldn’t order Niva to help me, he might at least help to persuade her that she should.

Drawing a deep breath, I told him everything that I knew about Citatie and their army. I told him about Earl Sarryck and his lust for dragon blood (an aspect that I had previously concealed from Niva and the others, as it might make them more reluctant to help the humans).

“So you see,” I finished, “I need to gather some of our dragons, to help spy on the Citatian army before they attack Feravel.” I looked hopefully at my old friend.

“No.” Shardas’s voice was flat. “I will never again put any dragon under my rule in a position to be coerced by alchemy.” He levelled his sapphire gaze at me. “Nor should you meddle in these affairs, Creel. You are too young for such matters, and it angers me that your king would put you in a position of danger. You must stay far away from Citatie, even as my people shall.”

Opening and closing my mouth like a landed fish, I stared at him. “But, Shardas! These other dragons –”

“We dragons are an independent race. It is for the Citatian dragons to break free or perish,” he pronounced harshly.

“But if they attack Feravel?”

“We will withdraw.”

“You can’t just hide in the forest,” I protested. “They’ll find you, or the slippers or whatever they’ve got will force you out of hiding.”

“Then we will leave Feravel,” Shardas said. “Once Velika is able to travel, we will find a place that is safe.”

“You’re being selfish!” I shouted at him. “We need to help the Citatian dragons.”

“And you’re being foolish,” Shardas roared back. “You’re going to get yourself killed, and now you have no slippers to summon help when you are in danger!”

“You’re both being foolish,” Velika rasped from the mouth of the cave. “And exceptionally loud.”

Feniul moaned and swayed on his feet, and Niva let out an exclamation. I took a step back, to get out of the way of all the emotional dragons. Shardas fanned his lacerated wings in surprise and concern as Velika came out of the cave. Her eyes, a beautiful sea green, were nearly shut against the light, even though it was an overcast day. The look on her face made Shardas move aside quickly, so that she could come all the way out of the cave and on to the beach.

“You were right, Creel,” Velika said, squinting around. “It is good to feel the sun.”

The weak sunlight made the patchwork of new and old scales on her side glitter, and her damaged wings looked like pale blue lace. She stretched her long neck, her muzzle pointed skyward, and then her legs and tail.

“Now,” she said when she had settled, looking at each of us in turn, “we have the matter of the Citatians to deal with.”

Feniul seemed to be on the verge of fainting, and Niva looked torn between bowing and fainting herself. Realising that I was fiddling with my skirts in a sort of half-curtsying
fashion, I forced myself to stop. Shardas saw me straighten and smiled. I wrinkled my nose at him.

“The Citatians are coming to Feravel specifically?” Velika asked me.

“Yes … Velika.” I heard Niva hiss at my use of the queen dragon’s name. “They said they would destroy us, and anyone who stood in their way.”

“I see.” She looked thoughtful. “Has your king done anything to offend them?”

“He says not.”

“Do they give any reason?”

“No.”

“Odd.” She reached up and scratched at a loose scale on the side of her neck. It fell to the pebbled ground with a clatter, showing a fresh patch of darker blue scales beneath. “We must find out how these dragons are being controlled, and why they are coming to Feravel.”

“It does not concern us,” Shardas said.

“It most certainly does,” Velika argued. “They may be far away from here, but they are still our people. I would go myself, but I am too weak. And you cannot fly,” she reminded Shardas, her voice compassionate. “It will have to be Niva and Feniul. Also, anyone else you can locate. Theoradus would be a good choice.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but he’s dead,” I told her.

“Dead?” She looked sorrowful. “When?”

“Last year, during the war. He was shot down by arrows just before you, er, dived into the Boiling Sea.”

“Ah.” She paused. “Amacarin?”

“We spoke to him and he was quite reluctant to leave his home,” Niva said, for all the world as though she hadn’t refused as well.

“Tell him that he is ordered to go and give Creel whatever assistance is required,” Velika said.

“Yes, Azure-Wing,” Niva said.

“And you will go, too, of course, and Feniul.”

“Me?” Feniul looked horrified. “But – but who will bring you sheep and things?”

“Is Leontes still alive?” Velika looked at me, but I shrugged. I had never heard the name.

“Yes, Azure-Wing,” Niva said. “But my mate is occupied in guarding our hatchlings, far to the west.”

“You have children?” I stared at her. I could not imagine the militant Niva as a mother, but I was less surprised to find that her mate watched their young.

“How many hatchlings have you?” Velika looked at Niva with interest. So did Shardas and Feniul. I wondered if they, too, were startled by the idea of Niva as a mother.

“Four,” Niva said with no little pride. “All the eggs hatched.”

“Wondrous,” Velika said. “Can they fly yet?”

“Yes, Azure-Wing.”

“Then have Leontes fly them here, to our cave. He will help us until we are healed. And the little ones will enjoy the lake.” Her tone was almost wistful when she spoke of the “little ones”.

“Yes, my queen.” If Niva was irritated by this order to move her family across the country, she didn’t show it.

Velika turned to me again. “What other humans will help you?”

“Prince Luka, whom you remember brought me here the first time,” I said. “And a Moralienin sword master named Tobin.”

“You trust this Tobin?”

“Yes, indeed. He’s a very good man,” I assured her. “He’s engaged to my friend Marta,” I added unnecessarily.

“Will he keep our secret?”

“Tobin is a mute, and the trusted companion of Prince Luka,” Feniul said, which surprised me, since Feniul had never seemed to notice any other humans but me. I hadn’t known that he even remembered Tobin’s name.

“Excellent. Now go,” Velika said. “Establish a speaking pool in Citatie as soon as you arrive, Niva, and report to us. I expect Leontes and your hatchlings within the week.” She walked closer to the edge of the water and lay down. “Shardas and I will sleep now,” she announced, dismissing us.

As I climbed on to Feniul’s back, I saw Shardas lie down beside his mate, entwining his tail with hers. He saw me looking, and shot out a small spurt of blue flame in farewell. I waved, and Feniul took to the sky with a subdued Niva on his heels.

“You’ll need a sweater, Tobin,” Marta said, trying to jam a large wool pullover into his neatly packed bag.

Tobin and I exchanged rueful looks, and he made some gestures with his hands.

“I know it’s warm there, but what if there’s an unseasonable chill?” Marta stuck out her lower lip.

“Marta,” I said cajolingly. “Tobin has been to Citatie before. If he wanted a sweater, he would have packed a sweater.”

Marta tossed the sweater aside. “Fine!” She folded her arms, looking red and angry. “Of course
you
can be all cavalier about this, Creel. You’re going to see your … Luka. I’m sending Tobin off to face who knows what! I have to sit here and sew and pretend that nothing’s wrong for I don’t know how long!” She was on the verge of tears.

Tobin went over and put his arms around her, and I busied myself packing my own things. We were in the living quarters over the shop. Niva, Amacarin and
Feniul would meet us outside the city gates at dawn. Marta and I had been up all night, sorting clothes, packing hampers of food, and the like, but once Tobin arrived she had become increasingly nervous and demanding.