Dragon Spear (16 page)

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Authors: Jessica Day George

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BOOK: Dragon Spear
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Seeing that I was fading, Feniul turned to the dragon and addressed her directly in their language. He seemed alarmed at what she had to say, though, and turned back to us at once.

“She wants her child back, which is understandable,” he explained. “But as soon as he’s free, she’s threatening to tell everyone where we are and that we stole her son, which is worrisome, to say the least.”

“She can’t do that,” I said, panicking a little.

“No, she can’t,” Luka agreed. “Tell her that if she wants to see her child, she has to promise not to reveal that we had captured him, or where we are camped.”

“Even better,” I said, sitting up in Luka’s arms and causing him to quickly change his grip on my legs so that he didn’t drop me. “Even better: tell her that if she wants to get him back, she has to meet us tomorrow with ten other dragons.”

Both Feniul and Luka stared at me. Disbelief warred with concern on their faces as they patently came to the conclusion that I was suffering from some sort of brain fever.

“We need to convince these dragons that Velika cannot stay here and be their pet,” I said. “They have to let her go, and all her eggs. I snuck out for two reasons: I wanted to make sure that you were all right”—I gave Luka’s shoulders a squeeze—“and I wanted to see how many locals we could convert to our cause.”

Feniul relayed our request to the female, but she violently disagreed. She wanted her son, she wanted him now, and she wanted to see us punished for our crime.

I could hardly blame her, so, with much arm waving and Feniul to translate, I told her that we had a special message from the queen, and needed to tell as many dragons as possible.

“Very well.” She sniffed. “Bring my son to the southern temple,” she told Feniul. “You will return him to me, and then the humans may speak to us. Or I will bring every dragon and human in our land against you.”

A Wall of Scales

T
his is terrifying.”

We were standing with Amacarin in the middle of the forest clearing where the southern temple of the dragons was located. The temple itself consisted mainly of pillars that marked a loose circle in the trees, and some stones set into the mossy ground in a pattern that looked as though it had a ritualistic purpose.

“Said the girl who once clung from Niva’s neck, trying to get a collar on her.
Niva!
” Luka rolled his eyes. But his face was white and he was clutching my hand. “And then you leaped off a roof onto a strange dragon’s back, shortly before jumping aboard several strange dragons in the middle of a battle.”

“I spend a lot of time hanging too far off the ground,” I commented, trying to sound brash but coming out high-pitched. “I should stop that.”

“True. As soon as you do
this
.” With his free hand Luka gestured at the crowd in front of us.

Like a wall of scales, fourteen local dragons stood in the clearing. And gathered around the dragons were their people. Hard, dark eyes stared at us. The white markings on their faces stood out starkly against their tanned skin, giving them the appearance of even greater hostility.

Taking a young dragon was a serious crime here, since hatchlings were so rare, and it looked more like we were on trial than anything else. My heart sank further as I saw my original captor, Ullalal, and her daughters standing beside the dragon I had served for that disastrous day and a half.

“I don’t think I can do this.” I tried to step back.

Luka let go of my hand, but only so he could push me gently forward. “You’re the heroine of the Dragon Wars,” he said. “I’m convinced that you can do anything.”

This made me smile, and I was still smiling when Feniul landed beside us. He had the little, nameless dragon with him, and also Niva and the orange dragon Roginet.

“This is more than ten of them,” Feniul hissed to me.

“I noticed.”

“Be prepared to leap onto my back if we have to get away quickly,” he said.

“Righto,” Luka said.

Now that our dragons were here, it was time to begin. I took yet another step forward, seeing every set of eyes—human and dragon—follow my movements.

“As you all know,” I began, “I am a friend of Queen Velika Azure-Wing, and I am authorized to speak for her today.” I paused to let Feniul translate, and then waited a little longer to let my words sink in.

“Velika is very displeased. Her life and the lives of her mate and her eggs have been threatened.” A number of the dragons looked shocked at this, and so did all of the humans. I took heart: perhaps they didn’t know what was going on down in that cavern and it was Mannyl alone who was corrupt, not the general population.

“She was stolen away from her mate and her friends only weeks before she had her clutch. The elder dragon who lives in the lesser temple has told her that she will not be allowed to leave, ever, unless she gives up one of her children.”

More disbelief, shocked murmurs, head- shaking. Luka gave me a wink. We had their sympathy, I was sure of it.

Just as I was preparing to say more, Darrym’s mother called out from the front of the crowd. She was standing as close as she could get to her younger son, who was still tethered to Niva on one side and Roginet on the other.

“We are the true people,” she said. “We need the queen more than these vain, fancy dragons with you! She belongs to us!”

“Yes, she
is
your queen! Your queen: not your slave,” I countered. “A queen is not kept in a hole in the ground, forced to do your will. The queen of the dragons needs to be free to go to all her people who need her. She is to look after the sick, bless matings and hatchlings, and guide you to fertile lands.”

Niva, to one side, nodded approvingly. She had undertaken my education in the duties of the king and queen of the dragons last year, when it was revealed how little I knew about my friends’ culture.

“But she is not the real queen,” Darrym’s mother shot right back. “As descendants of the First Mother’s line, we have certain privileges.”

This raised Niva’s hackles too much for her to remain silent. “You have no right to keep the queen in a dungeon!” Then she blasted the air with flame, a serious offense in a peaceable gathering of dragons.

Darrym’s mother’s insistence got to me, too. It reminded me too much of Mannyl and Darrym, so smug about kidnapping Velika and holding her prisoner, completely convinced as they were that whatever they did was right and good.

“If you are the chosen people,” I said, and Feniul had to scramble to translate, breathing steam as he was from outrage, “why is it that your numbers have dwindled? Why has this very land turned against you, poisoning you with noxious smoke?” I stared around, making eye contact with all of the dragons that I could, willing them to think about what I was saying.

“Is it that you have displeased the First Mother? Keeping the queen locked away like this can only offend the First Mother more,” I went on. “Velika is still descended from that first dragon, and is of royal blood. It is wrong of you to treat her this way. You must persuade your elders to set her free. Now that she knows about you, she will continue to aid you. But she must be free.”

There. That was the meat of my argument. If it didn’t work, it was back to sketching skirt patterns, as Marta would say. I hardly dared to look around, but when I did, I saw . . . understanding. Worry. Even shame, as they contemplated the seriousness of what they had done.

I caught Luka’s eye, and we dared a small smile at each other. I quickly wiped mine away, though, not wanting to appear to be gloating. But as I turned my head, I saw Darrym’s mother.

She did not look ashamed. She looked furious, her eyes filled with hatred.

And all of it was directed at me.

“Give me my youngling,” she said, her voice cold.

“She doesn’t like us,” Luka murmured.

“No, she does not.”

“How dare you accuse us of kidnapping, when you have held my youngling against his will so many days!” Darrym’s mother said.

Feniul’s chest puffed out. “He threatened the safety of the king and the queen. We merely kept him with us so that he could not endanger them. He was not harmed. He was well fed, well cared for.”

As a point of fact, I noticed that little Peder No-People looked in fine spirits. He had been whispering back and forth amiably with Roginet this entire time, and he appeared to have gained weight during his captivity.

“I want my child,” the mother dragon hissed.

“And Velika wants her children,” I snapped back. “All of them. You’ll get your wish. Will she get hers?”

This took even Darrym’s mother aback, and I saw quite a few dragons hang their heads. I went over to the young dragon and freed him myself, making my movements broad and dramatic.

“You are free,” I said loudly to the young dragon.

“Thank you,” he said, looking rather sad. “I have to go home now,” he explained to Roginet and reluctantly went to his mother.

She fussed over him for some time, making sure that he wasn’t injured, while he looked embarrassed. I raised my eyebrows at the orange dragon.

“A nice young fellow,” Roginet said in his accented Feravelan. “Ze mother seems a bit odd, zough.”

Luka coughed to hide his laughter.

One of the local dragons saw this, and came forward. “You have been among them?” He loomed over the young dragon, who lowered his head subserviently.

“Yes, noble Vannyn.”

“Who is he, this king? What sort of creature is he?”

I held my breath, and Luka’s hand, as all around us both species strained to hear the answer.

“He is . . . great, Noble One. Powerful, strong, and . . . good.”

“Good?”

“Kind. And wise. He loves the queen very much.” And if a dragon could have blushed, the nameless young dragon did.

This caused much clucking and murmuring from the other dragons, and the “Noble One” looked at me.

“We have never had a king,” he explained. “Our queens’ mates were always chosen for them, and they had no status among us.”

Another piece of history from Niva rose to the forefront of my brain. Shaking my head as though facing a roomful of students, I said, “The First Mother herself chose a king for her oldest daughter and heir, but said that ever after, the queens must choose their own mates. The king was to be the leader in times of danger, she said, and no queen was complete without her king by her side. In the Dawn Days, Queen Rialta and her king, Nethem, were said to be of one voice and one heart.”

“How can you know this?” Darrym’s mother looked appalled when Feniul’s translation sank in.
“How dare a human
speak of such things?”

The assembled humans were all averting their eyes from me, as though I had done something truly awful. Ullalal’s face was a mask of horror, and the daughter who had envied my servitude had both hands over her mouth, as though she might be sick.

“The penalty for any human who speaks of sacred matters is death. Immediate death by burning,” Darrym’s mother said with great satisfaction.

“Is that true, or is it something you invented?” Niva asked with great disgust. “For I have never heard of such a thing, and I have known the queen since I was hatched.”

“It is true,” Vannyn, the Noble One, told us. “However, I do not think it applies to this young maiden, since she is not of our people.” He gave me a reassuring look.

I tried to smile back, but I felt rather uneasy myself. Darrym’s mother looked as though she were going to burn me to ashes right now, without further argument.

“Of course it does not apply,” Feniul said. “There is no ban among our people on humans knowing the ancient legends. We should encourage it, really. There would be fewer wars and misunderstandings.”

Dear Feniul. I did manage a smile for him, and Luka’s grip on my hand relaxed a bit at the blunt sensibility of the green dragon’s tone.

“Wars? With humans?” Darrym’s mother looked down her nose. “Has this lesser queen fallen so far from the true way? Does she not control the humans among you?”

“Dragons do not own humans, not in any legend or law that I have ever heard,” Niva said stiffly. “Again I say: is this truly the ancient way, or something that you have invented?”

Before Darrym’s mother could retort, Vannyn spoke up.

“Perhaps it is a measure of how far we have fallen from the ancient ways,” he said heavily. His gaze swept the assembled humans. “It is our vanity, and our shame, that we now keep slaves, something our ancestors would never have condoned. Nor would they have condoned the kidnapping of a queen . . . or any female! And the continued captivity, the threats of taking away her hatchlings, are an abomination.”

I’m not certain who looked more surprised: me, Darrym’s mother, or the humans who had just discovered that there was no need for them to be slaves.

Back in the Cavern

E
ncumbered by my heavy pack, I slipped between the logs blocking the entrance to the lesser temple with Luka right behind me. Shardas caught us easily on his back and carried us down to Velika. I had forgotten how hot and malodorous the molten river was, and hoped it wasn’t affecting the health of the little dragonlets. We would need to get them out, soon.

After assuring the dragons of our well-being, and asking after theirs and the eggs’, we related everything that had happened at the meeting, and the aftermath. It was quite a lot to tell, with Vannyn ultimately decrying the practice of keeping humans and the kidnapping of Velika with equal vehemence. The local dragons had divided into two camps: those who continued to believe in what they considered the old ways, and those who followed this Noble One.

It was a great surprise to Darrym’s mother, but not to anyone else, when her younger son refused to go with her. He had taken a stand beside Roginet and announced his intention to follow the large, orange dragon wherever Roginet should lead.

In a terrible temper, his mother had at last flown off with her supporters in tow. They consisted of four dragons—and no humans—which made their exit less dramatic than I’m sure she would have liked. Also remaining was my former master, and his people, who looked uncertain and were murmuring among themselves in low voices.

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