Dragonmaster (13 page)

”
N
ow what will you do, my friend? Now that I have destroyed the last dragon on Taun. You are alone, Norl. Dahl and Catryn cannot help you. They are doomed, as are you. Twice before I relied on others to do my will, but this time I will act alone, and this time I will not fail.”

The words seared themselves into Norl’s brain as if written in fire. He could not make sense of them, could not make sense of what had happened. Lorgan! How could he be so quickly, so
easily
destroyed? Truly, all hope had disappeared. There was no one left. He had lost. The only thing to do now was surrender.

But even as he thought this, one small, clear part of his soul cried out to him. It was not just himself he was condemning to death, it was all of Taun. He could not give up. Somehow, some way, he must fight back. And with that came the remembrance of how he had healed Catryn’s magical horse. With his hands alone. He had persuaded
himself that it was Catryn’s magic, not his, that had enabled him to do that, but what if it weren’t? He had learned to transform, to become eagle—there
was
magic in him.

He reached back with his good hand and cradled his wounded shoulder. Pain shot through him; he ignored it.

Nothing. How could he have harboured such a forlorn hope? He dropped his hand. But even as he did so he felt a momentary lightening of the pain—a small lessening? He reached again for his shoulder. He focused every bit of energy within his mind and soul on the wound, willing it to heal. Again, for a moment, nothing; then, miraculously, the pain began to subside and melt away. Beneath his hand he felt his shoulder mending, restoring itself. He tried, tentatively, to move it. He could! Now his arm moved strongly, freely. One moment more and he could raise it high. That was all he needed!

He pulled into himself and shimmered into eagle form. But that was not enough. Bigger. Stronger. For what he must do he must command more strength than he had ever dreamed of. He spread his wings wide. Their span grew as he stretched until they eclipsed Lorgan’s. And still they grew, until a golden eagle the size of Caulda herself stood on the brink of the blackness that was closing in on it. Even as Norl heard the entity shriek with anger, he beat his wings downward with a mighty thrust and rose into the air. Above the pool, above the searching mist. Out of reach of the entity. Then he stooped, plummeting down, wings folded. Only at the very last moment did he reverse
himself with yet another beat of his wings and touch the water feet first.

The shock sent a thrill of agony through him. It was as if he had landed in fire itself. No matter. He reached down, down into the murk until his talons felt solid matter. Scales! He clamped down hard, even as Lorgan had grasped him when the dragon had pulled him from the darkness over Daunus.

The weight of the dragon was too much. He could not lift him. Still, there was no thought of giving up. Either he would wrench Lorgan free from the entity’s grasp or he would be consumed himself. He fought the air with his wings, exhausting even his massive new-found strength, yet still the dragon lay inert and trapped beneath him. He reached deep within himself for just one more burst of energy…and felt the dragon’s body shift. He raised his head skyward and willed his body to tear Lorgan free. One impossible, unending moment, and then he was flying, Lorgan clenched firmly in his talons, but he had not strength enough left to hold him! Just as his talons slipped, he felt the dragon move. Lorgan’s wings spread. The dragon shuddered once, then his wings bit into the air. He broke free from Norl’s grasp and he, too, was flying.

Together, they circled high above the blackness.

“What will you do now, fools?” the entity below them cried. “You still cannot harm me. I have still conquered Taun.”

Hhana!

The name streaked into Norl’s mind. Had she found the other dragons? Where was she? He had bade her take them to him in Daunus, but she would not have been able to do that. Would she be seeking him? He had never mindspoken to her, but it was their only chance.

Hhana!
he sent.
Where are you?

She is close.
Norl heard Lorgan’s words in his mind.
I can feel her. She has dragons with her.

Norl was calling to her! Relief washed over Hhana in a flood. He was alive. He would know what to do.

Norl,
she sent back,
where are you?

But Norl did not answer her question and his voice in her head was chaotic, desperate.

Have you found dragons?
he demanded.

Yes,
Hhana replied.
Five—no, four,
she corrected herself, her heart contracting. She had yet to make sense of Tragaur’s death.

I need you,
Norl sent.
Come, Hhana, as quickly as you can. Bring the dragons with you. All of Taun depends on it!

He needed her!

Where are you?
Hhana asked again.

In the north. Fly north toward the light,
Norl answered.

We are coming!
Hhana replied. No thought now of disobeying. She turned to her charges.

“The Dragonmaster is calling,” she cried. “We must fly to him.”

With one accord the dragons and the dragonling increased their speed, but the darkness quickened behind them, closer to overtaking them with every wingbeat.

Hhana looked back once at the encroaching shadow, then did not look again. Instead, she urged her charges on ever more swiftly.

“What are we to do?” Kuhn asked.

“I do not know,” Hhana replied, fighting to keep fear out of her voice. “The Dragonmaster will tell us when we reach him.” What was happening to Taun? What was the terrible blackness that was pursuing them?

She was startled out of her thoughts by a cry. Durghan had fallen behind and, too late, had realized that he was about to be consumed. Before Hhana could react, Kuhn banked steeply around and charged the dark pall. He sent forth a sheet of flame. For just an instant, the darkness fell back. Durghan broke free of the tendrils that had been reaching for him and sped to join the others.

“Well done, Kuhn!” Hhana cried. The smallest and most timid of them all had shown them the way. “We can fight this!” she cried again. “Follow me!” Without waiting to see if her command had been obeyed, she turned steeply and flew directly at the impenetrable wall in front of her, fire spewing forth. More flames shot out on either side of her and with mixed relief and pride, she realized that the young dragons were beside her. Together, they sent out a wall of fire that hit the darkness with a sound almost of
thunder. It was followed by a roar of fury and frustration. For a moment they faced each other: the dragons, spent and exhausted, the wall of blackness arrested.

Hhana held her breath. She knew the young dragons would not be able to attack again until they had recovered. She doubted that she would, either. Then, incredibly, the blackness melted back.

“We’ve done it!” Hhana exulted. But there was no time to relish the victory. They must get to Norl.

“Enough. I am tired of this. It is time to make an end of it. I have destroyed Daunus, the rest of your world will die soon.” With that, the whirlpool below seemed to surge upward. It reached for Norl and Lorgan as they flew high above. A black tendril shot out at Norl’s feet, almost ensnared him. Norl braced himself.

“They are here!”

Norl heard Lorgan at the same time as he saw five dragons sweep into view.

“Norl!” Hhana’s voice, but he could not tell which of the dragons was she. No time to think about that. No time for anything but action. Futile though it might be, it was all that he could think of to do.

Better to die this way than surrender.

Hhana!
he sent.
This evil cannot withstand dragonfire!
Take the dragons and encircle the pool. When I give the command, you must unleash all the fire that you can, directly into it. You, too, Lorgan!

“Dragons!” The entity’s voice betrayed shock. “And dragonling?”

“So, you can be surprised,” Norl crowed. “And you can fail. You did not kill the child after all.”

The raging pool suddenly subsided into a treacherous smoothness.

“Dragonling,” the entity breathed, and now its words slimed through the air, oily and insidious. “I never thought to see another one of your kind again. Do you know your power, dragonling?”

“I do,” the largest of the dragons shot back. Norl recognized Hhana.

“You think you do, but you do not,” the entity said. The voice was tempting now, beguiling. “I could teach you, though. I know about dragonlings. Far more than this puny mortal does. Together, with your dragons behind you, we could rule this world. We could travel through portals you will never otherwise discover and find other worlds to do our bidding. We can become as gods, dragonling, but only if you accept my offer.” The voice turned suddenly harsh. “Turn on this mortal, dragonling,” it commanded. “Destroy him. The dragons will obey you—you are their master, not he.”

For a long, impossible moment, Norl saw Hhana hesitate. As she and her young dragons surrounded the pool,
he saw her drink in the power that emanated from it, even as Lorgan had done, and swell with its intensity. She raised her head.

“Drink, dragons!” she commanded. “This pool can give us more power than we have ever known!”

Lorgan let out a hiss. His eyes closed into slits. Norl saw him prepare to dive toward Hhana. He had time to scream out just one word:

“No!”

This must not happen. The entity was doing what it had done before, setting dragon against dragon, dragon against mortal. Creating chaos, opening up the crack in the world that would let it rise, triumphant.

Lorgan checked himself. Hhana had not even noticed his aborted attack.

She turned her head to look at Norl. She spread her wings wide and hovered, cradled by the heat rising from the pool. She glowed with the force of it.

“Do you see what I can give you?” the entity asked. “Do you feel it? Nothing can conquer you now.”

“Should I betray you, Norl?” Hhana asked. Her voice was eerily calm. “This being offers me much. What do you have to offer?”

Norl sank down through the currents of air until he hovered at her level. His feathers shone golden in the sun, his mighty wings stilled. They hung in the air, eagle facing dragon. Norl knew that, powerful as he was, he was defenceless against her dragonfire, even as the Protector in
his hawk form had been defenceless against the first son of Caulda.

“I offer you life,” he said. “Not death.”

“But this being is not offering me death, he is offering me power,” Hhana replied. “Power that I have longed for and am now just barely tasting.”

“He lies,” Norl said. “It was this being who killed the dragonlings. Who killed your own mother.”

“Is this true?” Hhana asked.

“It is,” Norl answered, even as the entity below contradicted him.

“I will not kill you,” it said. “You are the last of your kind. You are too valuable. I will keep my promise to you.”

“A promise that means nothing,” Norl countered. “And even if it did, the power that he offers you will mean the death of your soul. Dragonlings do have souls, do they not?”

“They do. As do dragons.”

“Then what is it to be?” Norl held Hhana’s eyes with his own. He must make her hear him, make her understand what the consequences of her choice would be. “Caulda stole the souls of the people of Taun because she had lost her own and she hungered for it. Will you condemn yourself and the dragons you lead to a similar existence? Will you be partner to the murderer of your mother and countless other beings, or will you choose life as I offer it? As dragonling. The only link between human and dragon on Taun. Would that not be power enough?”

Hhana hooded her eyes, breaking their gaze. The moment stretched out. There may have been voices raised around them, there may have been tumult and confusion, but Norl did not hear it. All his attention, all his concentration, was focused on Hhana. Then she opened her eyes again and let the fire behind them blaze forth.

“I will choose life, life as you offer it. I will be the Dragonling of Taun.
And I will avenge my mother.”
She turned to the young dragons.

“Now!”
she cried.

From each dragon’s maw, flame streaked toward the pool. Lorgan ranged himself beside Hhana and, together, they added to the fire. The sky blazed into light as flame erupted in a circle all around, above and within the entity. Acry that was infinitely, unbelievably louder than a scream shattered the air.

Norl echoed it with a scream of his own as he felt the cry pierce his skull and take over his mind. His head was about to burst with it! The shriek went on and on. Below him, the pool writhed and twisted in a kaleidoscope of colours—blue, green, iridescent silver—a magnificence of unbelievable evil. The stream of fire issuing forth from the dragons was relentless, but Norl could sense their energy fading. How much longer could they endure? How much longer could he endure?

And then the cry stopped.

The impossible colours began to pale—so imperceptibly that at first Norl thought he was only imagining the
change. But, as he watched, the pool became translucent, ephemeral. It wavered. With an exhalation that seemed to come from the depths of the earth itself, the reeking blackness dissolved into a rush of foul air that rose in a twisting pillar of mist…and disappeared into the heavens.

The land flowed back over the wound it had left and healed itself. The earth was whole once more.

T
he dragons landed. They ringed the space where the pool had stood. The earth was bare and blasted, but it was whole. The sun shone down upon them out of a sky that was clear and pure, but Norl’s triumph had already turned into desperation. He could think only of the black cloud that had suffocated Daunus, the last distraught message he had received from Catryn in the dying Domain. Was Dahl still alive? Was anyone still alive?

“We must return to Daunus,” he said. “To the king. We will fly by day and by night, stopping only when absolutely necessary for rest and nourishment.”

“The young dragons need rest.” Norl realized that it was Hhana who spoke. He would not otherwise have recognized her.

“And the villagers will see us,” Lorgan said.

“We cannot rest,” Norl answered shortly. “And if the villagers see us, so be it.”
If, indeed, any still live,
he thought, but he did not speak the words aloud.

“Is this how the Dragonmaster of Taun thanks us?”

Norl stopped short at Hhana’s words.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He forced himself to pause even though he could hardly contain the urgency that was consuming him. “You speak truly, Hhana. Without you and your dragons we would have been lost. You have saved us. But now we must hasten to find out if we have saved Taun as well—or if it is too late.”

Hhana inclined her head, accepting his apology. But as an equal, Norl was quick to note. There was no hint here of the young girl he had rescued from Gudruna and the angry villagers.

No matter. There was no time now to think on this.

“I know you are all weak and hungry,” he said, “but there is no food here. We will fly today until we are back where there is game and sustenance. And if the villagers and townspeople see us, so be it. Let them know that the dragons have returned to Taun. Let them know that it was the dragons who saved them.”

“The blackness followed us closely,” Hhana said. “It lies in wait behind us.”

“We will vanquish it,” Norl replied. “Its source of strength is gone. It will not be able to withstand us.” He could only pray that he spoke truly.

The dragons took to the air, flying weakly and slowly. Norl took the lead. As they approached the edge of the oppressive blackness, Norl held his breath. Lorgan led the others to move up beside him.

You should fall back, behind us,
Lorgan sent.
You have no fire to protect you.

No,
Norl replied. So, together, in one unwavering line, they challenged the darkness…and the darkness retreated before them.

As they flew on, the land slowly began to change beneath them. First, small signs of greenery and bushes, then trees. A river sparkled into life as the blackness withdrew. Finally, a village. Norl saw villagers emerging from houses, gaping up at them, running after them. Some merely stood, stunned, raising their faces to the light that had been restored to them.

They lived! The sight raised Norl’s hopes—if
they
lived, the people of Daunus might also still be alive.

But the entity had said that Daunus was destroyed.

Norl pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He could not think that. He could not believe that. He must think only of getting to Dahl as quickly as he could. Nothing else.

In spite of his desire for haste, Norl realized that their need for nourishment and rest could not be delayed any longer. He peered down at the land below them. They were flying over thick forest now, with no villages or towns in sight. Then he saw a stream with a small clearing beside it.

We will land there,
he sent.

The dragons saw the clearing and banked toward it. When they landed, they dragged themselves to the stream’s edge to drink. After a short rest, Lorgan spoke.

“We must hunt,” he said. “Surely there is game here and we will find food easily.” He stretched his wings and yawned, releasing a wisp of smoke. “And then we must sleep,” he added, looking at Norl.

“I agree,” Norl said. “You have all done a wondrous thing. I know how much it drained you. Eat, sleep. Tomorrow we will rise again with the dawn and fly as long as we can. Daunus needs us, of that I am certain.” As he spoke he glanced skyward. The sun shone overhead with a welcome brightness, but to the south the black cloud waited, ominous and unmoving. He was filled with an almost unbearable need for haste—with every moment lost Daunus might be dying—but he knew that the dragons could not go on without this break. Indeed, his own head was swimming with fatigue and hunger, and he was so weak he could barely keep himself upright. He needed the respite as much as they.

“Go, hunt,” he ordered. Then, as the dragons prepared to fly, he looked closely at them. Which one was Hhana? At first he could not tell, then one returned his look and he realized that was her.

“Hhana,” he added, “stay with me.”

“Will you not hunt with us?” she asked.

“No,” Norl replied. “I will provide for myself. And
for you. Stay with me. Please.” For a moment he thought Hhana would protest, then she nodded.

Lorgan led the young dragons up over the trees; soon they disappeared from sight.

“Hhana, let us come back to human form,” Norl said.

Once more, Hhana hesitated.

“It has been so long…” she began, then she nodded again.

Slowly, the dragon shape began to waver. A slight shimmer, a displacement of space, and Hhana stood before him. But this was not the girl he had last seen. This was a young woman, tall and confident. Her skin glowed tawny, her eyes shone with dragonfire. Full and lush, her hair poured emerald-green over her shoulders and down her back. For a moment she stood thus, then she brought her arms together over her chest in an oddly defensive movement.

“It has been so long,” she repeated. “I had almost forgotten what it was like to be human.”

“You have done well, Hhana,” Norl said. “Without you and the young ones Taun would have been doomed.”

“Without you we would have all perished,” Hhana said, although it seemed she spoke the words with difficulty.

Norl could stand no longer. He allowed himself, finally, to acknowledge what he had been refusing to admit up until then. He had paid the price for rescuing Lorgan. His feet, burned beyond even his ability to heal, pained him unbearably. In his human form, he could hardly stand on
them. He sank to the ground and stared at them. They were misshapen and scarred. He would never walk proudly, certainly, again.

Hhana made a move to go to him, to help him, but he forestalled her. “Look behind you,” he said.

She turned to see a tree in full bloom where moments before no tree grew. White blossoms sent forth a heavy fragrance, and green, lumpish fruit hung heavy from its branches.

“The Deliverance tree,” she whispered.

“Did I not tell you?” Norl replied. “If you are in need, you will find it. Pick fruit for yourself, Hhana, and bring one to me, please.”

While they ate, she told him of finding the young dragons and all that had happened to them. She told him of losing Tragaur. He, in turn, told her of the death of the Sele. There was no thought of celebration. Their victory over the evil that had threatened Taun had been too costly.

And they knew not what was yet to come.

The closer they drew to Daunus, the greater grew Norl’s dread. True, as the black shroud retreated before them, the land below seemed to spring back to life. Everywhere, people emerged from their cottages and huts and stood, drinking in the life-giving light. Everywhere, they gaped
and stared as the dragons flew by. But would it be so in Daunus?

Behind them, Norl imagined, they must have left a trail of wonder and, almost certainly, fear. It would be long before the people of Taun accepted dragons again. It would take a lifetime of work to enable them to learn to live together in peace. Work that he and Hhana would accomplish together as Dragonling and Dragonmaster. But as he thought that, he looked again at his deformed feet. Hhana was whole and powerful, but he would be a dragonmaster who was crippled. How would he manage? Did he even want to be Dragonmaster? But as he asked himself that question, he knew the choice had already been made.

They flew over the grasslands of the Sele. Daunus lay straight ahead of them. Norl looked for signs of the Sele working in their fields but, to his surprise, saw none. It looked deserted. That added to his foreboding.

All sense of triumph, of jubilation, had died by now. If he had truly saved Taun, at what cost had that salvation been? And if he had failed to save Daunus, if the Domain had been destroyed, what would happen to the survivors? Would he have saved them only to plunge them into a world bereft of order? A world of chaos? And if so, how long would the dragons remain under control? How long, even, would Hhana remain human? He had seen the reluctance with which she had obeyed his request to return to her human form, had seen the eagerness with which she had reverted to dragon. If Dahl the King were dead, if Catryn
and the Elders were dead, how could he, by himself, rule Taun? It was a fate he had never considered—a fate he could never have wished for.

Norl, there is resistance. The dark no longer retreats.

Lorgan’s words broke into his thoughts. Norl looked up quickly. Lorgan was circling, irresolute, the other dragons following. Ahead of them, where Daunus must surely be, the blackness had coalesced into an unyielding wall. He could see the forest’s edge, see the plains that surrounded Daunus, but where the city’s streets and houses should have emerged, the blackness extended impenetrably to the ground. For a moment Norl gave in to desperation. They were too late! Daunus was gone! Then he gathered up his will. He had come so far, they had accomplished so much, he would not give in now, even if this, finally, meant their deaths. He sent his voice ringing across the air to Hhana and the young dragons.

“You defeated the source of evil itself, you can do the same to this abomination. Gather your strength. Send forth your flames and we will ride through them to Daunus.
Now!”
The cry rang out yet again, torn from his breast with the strength of his fury.

With one accord the dragons attacked. Fire enveloped the black wall ahead of them. The wall concentrated itself, resisted. The dragons were unrelenting. They spewed forth a wall of flame that grew and spread—greater than the wall of darkness that confronted them, taller, more allencompassing. The wall fought back as if it were a living
thing, demon-spirited. The dragons did not falter for a second.

How long?
thought Norl.
How long can they persist?

And then, suddenly, without warning…it was gone.

Norl stared around him, unbelieving.
It was gone!
No blackness. Anywhere. But where were the people? Then, slowly, suspiciously, the townsfolk began to stumble out into the streets. They saw their river, shining silver and clear, rippling through the city as it had before. With cries of relief, the people thronged toward it. Some cast themselves into the water, others just knelt beside it, stretching out their hands toward its coolness, dipping into it, drenching their faces. Those who looked up and saw the dragons above them stood wonderstruck, staring.

At that, Norl came to his senses.

“Back to the trees,” he commanded quickly. “We must not frighten them.”

He banked around and the others followed, trailing plumes of smoke. They landed well out of sight of the townsfolk.

“Wait here for now,” Norl said. “Hhana, come with me. We must find Dahl.”