When Dragons Rage

70

In the end, it was the vote of the Oriosan Freemen that decided things. Dranae was only going to take a limited number of people with him to Vael. That list came down to Will, Crow, Resolute, Erlestoke, Lombo, and Qwc. The Panqui, as a race, were favorites of dragons, so Lombo’s inclusion was a foregone conclusion. As for Qwc, since there was no way to prevent him from coming, Dranae invited him along. The other three came because they had been Dranae’s companions, and Erlestoke because he actually possessed a Truestone.

Those who were left behind were placed under a joint command of Sallitt Hawkins and his wife, Jancis Ironside. Exactly what they would be doing had started a debate. The Murosans wanted to return to Murosa to continue to harass Aurolani troops, even though their chances of surviving were dreadful. The meckanshü wanted to head back toward Fortress Draconis—especially after learning there were other survivors there. Jullagh-tse Seegg struck a middle ground and pointed out that if they went back into Sarengul, they could help crush the Aurolani occupation army. The Sarens would then move to strike at the Aurolani, which would give them much more strength for hitting supply trains than they had now, and Sarengul would become a refuge for people fleeing the Aurolani armies.

A return to Sarengul would also mean a chance at finding Verum, and the idea of locating a lost comrade meant a lot to all assembled.

The Freemen held a meeting and discussed things. Wheatly came to Will and asked what he thought, but Will just smiled. “You’ve earned the command of this unit, Wheatly. You know their minds and their hearts. Whatever you decide, I know it will make me proud.“

Wheatly then announced that the Freemen were all for entering Sarengul and fighting the Aurolani therein. While the Murosans weren’t wholly happy with that idea, a supplemental plan to lure their pursuit into the mountains and use the byways of Sarengul to destroy them did suit.

No one found leave-taking easy. Will said good-bye to each and every one of the Freemen. Each wished him well; they each took from him a small snippet of the bloody cloth that he had wrapped around his left hand before Jilandessa healed the wound. The Freemen sewed the brown patches onto their masks, below their left eyes, which is where they would cut an orphan notch if their father was dead. He knew why they did it, but the idea that a group of hard-bitten warriors would choose to see him as some sort of father figure astounded him.

Crow had a hard time saying good-bye, too—leaving his brother and his sister-in-law, to whom he had just been introduced. The Freemen and others also made a big deal of his departure and told him to keep wearing his mask. “If you’re going to represent us before the dragons, Crow, then you have to be attired proper” was the oft-voiced sentiment.

Erlestoke had it rougher, though. He was leaving behind his squad of soldiers, without whom neither he nor the DragonCrown fragment would have escaped Fortress Draconis. The mission they had chosen to accept was one that would very likely kill them, so the good-byes they said could easily have been forever.

Toughest of all, though, seemed to be having to part from his brother. Will had been saying good-bye to Linchmere when Erlestoke came by. The elder prince’s jaw dropped in surprise, then a smile blossomed on his face. “Linchmere?”

The younger prince stiffened and blood drained from his face. “You’re alive! You’re alive.”

“Yes, very much so, and very happy to see you.” Erlestoke embraced his brother, then glanced at Will. “Why didn’t you tell me my brother was here?”

“Well, we were dealing with Dranae and everything and, you know, it’s been a long day.”

Linchmere pulled himself from his brother’s embrace and smiled. “It’s because, Highness, no one here knows who I am. To them I’m just Lindenmere, one of the Freemen.”

Erlestoke’s eyes flicked up and Will was certain he caught the knowing glances from other Freemen milling about. All of them knew who Lindenmere really was. “Well, I never would have guessed. You’ve come with them from Meredo, have you? Father must be furious.”

Linchmere shrugged. “He’ll be more surprised to see you back from the dead than to see where I’ve gotten.”

“Pity if it’s true.” Erlestoke’s smile broadened. He clearly couldn’t believe the changes that had been wrought in his brother. Though Linchmere had only been a Freeman for just over a month, he’d lost weight, made friends and earned some scars. “He won’t recognize you, that’s for certain.”

Linchmere’s return smile burned brighter than dragonflre. As the brothers embraced, Will withdrew to gather his gear for the trip. It struck him that in many ways, Linchmere had been like Dranae, only it was the crucible of war, not a bath in molten rock, that had awakened him. Likewise Kenleigh had taken on an edge. In combat he’d proven quite stalwart, but content to take orders rather than give them. That didn’t mean he didn’t exhibit leader ship capabilities. He did, very much so, but he was the sort of man who led by example instead of command or force of personality.

When next Will saw them, the brothers were laughing together. Linchmere was helping Erlestoke work on the riding harness they’d use on Dranae. Having met them separately, Will never would have guessed they were brothers, but here he could see it. Moreover, he could see they were friends.

With many promises of future drinking, feasting, and wenching being exchanged, those bound for Vael clambered onto Dranae’s broad back and nested down in the valley between his shoulders. They roped themselves into the princes’ harness and waved to their compatriots.

Will was glad the rope harness allowed him to crawl forward to wher Dranae’s neck joined his body. While the air was cold enough that Will couldn’t remain there for very long, he got to watch the landscape below. He could see the way rivers flowed from mountains down to lakes or the sea. Forests spread over the hills and plains, save where men had chopped then back to feed fuel and building material into villages and cities.

And villages and cities were easy to spot because of the rising smoke. Fron most it was from cookfires, but the flight took them near enough to Caledo to see that part of the city was burning. He hoped Alexia, Kerrigan, Peri, am Sayce were still alive, and would be able to defeat the Aurolani or escape.

“Dranae, can’t you go down there and kill the Aurolani before we go’t Vael?”

“No, Will.” The dragon hooked his neck back to watch him. “There is a chance I could be killed, and the DragonCrown fragment would then go over to Chytrine. More importantly, there is another dragon down there. My intervention could trigger a larger battle, which would be to Chytrine benefit.”

“The first reason I get, but not the other.” Will shrugged.

“In due time, Will Norrington.”

Night fell before they left Muroso. The thin sliver of moon complemented the stars and Will saw lots of them. He half expected Resolute to take the opportunity to drill him on how to navigate by the stars, but being aloft and surrounded by darkness seemed to take an edge off the Vorquelf.

He did point to one chain of stars. “That is the Flail of Raisasel. He was a grand elven hero, from Vorquellyn. Back then, Vorquellyn was just part of the elven holdings. Everything from Loquellyn to Croquellyn and Harquellyn were all part of one grand elven nation.”

Will picked out the curvy line of seven stars. “What did Raisasel do?”

“He did many wonderful things, and the songs sung about his exploits are legion. He slew dragons and fought battles with the kryalniri—the real thing, not these ghosts Chytrine has created.” Resolute actually smiled, and for half a second Will thought he might sing one of the songs of Raisasel.

Then the Vorquelf’s eyes narrowed. “Songs to entertain children who never expected to have to fight.”

The Panqui extended a claw, dug some flat white wormy thing from beneath a scale, and popped it into his mouth. “Lombo likes star-songs.”

The thief smiled. “Do the Panqui have a song about Raisasel?”

“No flail. Seven sisters river floating.” Lombo’s grin revealed a small morsel of squirming worm. “Not child’s song.”

Erlestoke smiled. “In Oriosa, those are seven merchants and the moon is counted a thief. When it passes through them, it steals their light.”

Crow nodded, then looked to Qwc. “What about the Spritha?”

“Spritha sing not of stars.” He looked around at his companions. “Holes in the sun’s hood, just holes. Why sing, why?”

“Dranae, do dragons sing of the stars?”

The dragon looked back. “People create stories about what they fear as a means to define and control the threat. Raisasel slew no dragons, but elves feel safer to think that one of their number did. Dragons have no fear of the stars because we know what they are.”

Will frowned. “So do the Spritha, but I don’t think they are holes in some hood the sun pulls on.”

“No, Will. What would they be, then?”

He hesitated. “Well, I’ve not thought about it much, but they look like gems just scattered up there. If we could fly high enough, we could get them.”

Dranae laughed and a tiny bit of flame jetted from his nostrils. “The Spritha are closer than you are, Will.”

Crow smiled. “What are the stars then, Dranae, if that information can be shared?”

“Stars are just like the sun, but very far distant from here.”

But that can’t be. They’re so small and the sun is so big. Will looked at Crow and Erlestoke, then the three of them broke out laughing. “No, Dranae, that can’t be. Sparks from the sun maybe, but suns? Not possible.”

Another fiery snort accompanied a smirk. “Doubtless you are right, Will.”

As they flew west and south, the sky began to lighten in the east. The sun stole over the horizon, and long shadows began their retreat from its light. Will crawled back up to his vantage point, rolling onto his back to watch the dawn, then onto his belly to see their destination.

Vael sat in the southern portion of the Crescent Sea, due north of Gyrvirgul and northwest of Vilwan. Thick jungles covered it so well that as night’s veil was lifted, Will could still see very little. Occasionally a brilliantly colored flock of birds would rise, swirl above the leafy canopy, then descend and disappear again.

Several dark grey peaks thrust their way up through the vegetation wreathed by thin white clouds. The tallest sat in the middle of the island, but Dranae did not make for it. Instead, he flew toward the northern end and dipped down into the jungle. They drifted down into a misty valley with steep walls covered in mosses, and overgrown with deep green plants and vibrant blossoms. Water poured down in frothy cataracts. At the far end of it, Dranae lifted his left wing, banked into a turn, then landed effortlessly on a greensward before the opening of a massive cave.

“We have arrived, my friends.” Dranae lay down on his belly and extended his right forepaw to give them an easy way down to the ground. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Will was ready to agree with that assessment; the valley had been breathtaking. But Dranae was nodding toward the cavern mouth—which seemed only a cavern mouth, devoid of decoration.

“Am I missing something?” he whispered to Crow.

“If so, I am missing it as well, Will.”

Dranae’s eyes half lidded. “I had forgotten that you do not always see as I do.” The dragon extended his neck, opened his jaws, and breathed out softly. His exhalation flowed like fog over the stone. Then color flowed into it, painting the rocks in soft, chalky layers. Blue rivulets flowed down, carving the rock, enlarging the opening. Watching the process was hypnotic. In bits and flashes plants grew up, blossomed and died, animals came and left in an eyeblink. Rocks shifted and melted until the present opening remained and the colors bled away.

Will blinked. “Wow. What was that?”

“A little dracomagick.” Dranae canted his head slightly to the right. “Every event in the world produces echoes—not of sound, but resonations that travel in time. Dragons can see those vibrations and make sense of them. With some magick, we can provide them substance so that others can see. To me, when I land here, I see what you just saw, but on a larger scale. To me the cavern opens as if the rock were a curtain. It welcomes me home.“

Crow nodded. “I can imagine that is indeed beautiful. I have a question, though. If what you say about actions creating resonances is true, then dragons have access to everything that is happening.”

“Or ever has happened, since those resonances still flow through the world.” Dranae nodded. “Your question is preface to wondering why, with such knowledge, we have not intervened before on behalf of Chytrine’s enemies—even if just to inform them of what is happening elsewhere.”

“You anticipate me well.”

“Your question contains pieces of things that have long been debated. First, however, it is possible to use magick to kill resonances before they are born, or to alter others, so the information is not always reliable. Second, imagine hearing a hundred birds singing. How do you pick out the notes of one specific bird? And then expand that to all the notes ever sung by every bird that ever lived? How do you know which to listen to? Dragons may pick out a line or two to follow, but it is for their own purposes and amusements. As spying goes, we are hardly efficient.”

Erlestoke smiled. “And Chytrine has her resonances damped?”

“So I have been told, yes” Dranae stretched and adjusted his wings, then lifted his right forepaw and gestured toward the mouth of the cave. “Welcome to my true home. As you welcomed me into your world, so I welcome you into mine.”

Will led the way into the dim cave. Luminous lichen did provide some soft green light, reminding Will of Oracle’s cave near Gyrvirgul. He wished Dranae would use more magick to reveal things, but even without it, the place was stunning. The pillars of stone had all shades of color streaming through them, and small creatures moved through the stalactites and stalagmites both. Will wished he could be looking everywhere all at once.

Crow grabbed the back of his jacket and yanked him back right before Will stepped off into an abyss. A wall of heat rose from the depths. Down there, moving slowly, molten lava with dark islands floating on it flowed toward the north. The islands broke apart and sank, with flames flaring here and there. Watching it was almost like watching the dracomagick at the entrance, and for the barest of moments Will just imagined what it would be like to see that river with the mystical layering.

“Watch where you’re going, Will.”

Dranae came up and lifted each one of them across. “Forgive me. I lose perspective of size sometimes.”

They continued on, but Will lagged back to remain near Dranae. “That thing you did with the entrance. Does it work for other things?”

“An example, Will.”

“Well…” The thief shifted his shoulders uneasily. “People?”

The dragon nodded sagely. “Living things, yes. Creatures are studied to determine things about them—feeding patterns, migrations, breeding habits…”

“Breeding habits?” Will blushed heavily. “Even people?”

“Yes, Will, though we find that about as interesting as you might find watching dogs mate.”

“Oh, so you haven’t…”

“No, Will.” Dranae eyed him carefully as they moved into a tunnel that sloped downward and moved to the left. “You specifically were interested in seeing resonances of someone?”

The thief nodded. “I was wondering if, maybe, you could let me see my father from, you know, before he became one of them?

“Why?”

“Well, because, okay…Back in the mountains I saw Crow with his brother, and despite all that’s been done to Sallitt, they looked a bit alike. And Erlestoke and his brother, I could see the family ties there, too. And I guess I know my father used to make rhymes, the way I do sometimes. I know he’s my father and all, but I can’t see it.”

“If I were to do that for you, Will, you would have to realize two things. The first is that it wouldn’t be a seeing-thinking model of your father. You’d be watching him as if he was a ghost. He wouldn’t see you. He wouldn’t talk to you.”

“Okay, I guess.” Will shrugged. “What else?”

“He could end up haunting you.”

“Haunting? Like a ghost?”

“Precisely.”

“Wow.” Will tried to remember if he’d ever seen a ghost or not, but didn’t think he had. The prospect of having his own personal ghost made the hair stand up on the back of his neck, but he decided to chance it. “I’m still willing to try.”

“Then I will perform that service for you, gladly.” Dranae paused beside the company as they waited in a large, round intersection. “We will go left here, to my family chambers. You will rest while I report to my masters, then we will see to your needs until you are summoned before the Congress.”

Erlestoke’s lips pressed together. “Congress?”

“Our ruling council.” Dranae’s mouth opened slightly. “It is they who will decide if we will oppose Chytrine, or enter this war on her behalf.”