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Douglas Niles: The Dragons

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Douglas Niles The Dragons

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Of course, this span would be measured in centuries by human standards, but the serpentine neophytes had no such form of reckoning. To them, life was the unchanging, eternal grotto, and it was good. There was plenty to eat, for the bats dwelt all along the roof of the cave, and the serpents quickly became adept at upward pounces and deliberate, crawling stalks. Lightning-fast Blayze, the copper male, could even flip onto his back and snatch two bats with his forepaws-and, with luck, one or two more with the rear!

Frequently Burll, an ever-hungry bronze male with more brawn than brains, waited for Blayze to perform his trick. Burll then jumped upon his copper nestmate, snatching as many bats as he could, fending off the enraged Blayze until the bronze wyrmling could gulp down his stolen morsels.

Often Darlantan and the others killed bats for the sheer joy of the hunt, for the thrill of the fatal, spine-cracking bite. The silver male sometimes took more than he could eat, though hapless Aysa was generally ready to help finish off any surplus. Aurican, unlike his silver brother, was always more precise. He killed a bat and ate it, then killed and ate another, inevitably completing his repast without waste.

Frequently the bats departed, swirling through the tunnel into the Darkness Beyond, their keening cries fading only slowly into the distance. Sometimes when their prey was gone, one or more of the dragons would suffer from gnawing hunger, going to the cavern entrance and waiting anxiously for the return of the bats. Inevitably the flying pack returned sooner or later, in a great, shrieking cloud of wings and fur.

Upon these returns, the bats brought scents and tastes with them, clues that triggered in Darlantan’s mind the notion that perhaps there were things beyond the grotto worth knowing. A moist and loamy must sometimes coated the muzzle of a bat that the silver wyrmling slew, and it was a spoor that particularly intrigued him. He determined that one day he would follow the bats and learn the nature and origin of this scent.

But that time remained some vague, unmeasurable interval in the future. For now, there were brothers and sisters to tug from the walls, games of stalk-and-tag around the looming, gem-studded bowl of the nest, and a growing measure of clicks, barks, woofs, and hoots, sounds that were becoming increasingly recognizable to one another.

All thirteen of the metallic wyrmlings were active, killing and feeding with increasing frequency as larger bodies required ever greater supplies of meat. Their competition was fierce and instinctive-often a metallic scale or two flaked to the floor, pulled loose by a jealous slash or protective swipe. Aurican perfected a clever trick, pointing his snout in one direction while he was actually watching somewhere else from the corner of his eye. Lulling his nestmate into a false sense of security, he was frequently able to snatch away a bat or interrupt the drink of an unsuspecting sibling.

The wyrmlings were finding that they had to eat many bats in order to keep from going hungry. For the first time, Darlantan became aware of a strange sensation: It seemed that this perfect enclosure, their paradise, was becoming too confining. Frequently he wrestled with this sensation, feeling it rise to a new level of urgency on one occasion when he crouched impatiently, waiting for the return of the bats, who had swarmed forth on one of their regular forays.

“We’ll get some food soon?” squawked Aurican in the chirping dialect in which the nestmates conversed. The golden wyrmling padded up to Darlantan’s side. Auri’s proud head was upraised as he peered irritably into the shadowy tunnel.

Darlantan looked, too, understanding exactly the sounds his brother had made. “Let’s stay here and listen,” he squawked in reply. “Bats will come.”

Woofing, Aurican indicated his impatience, and Darlantan nodded, suddenly sharing a gnawing hunger that, before his brother’s suggestion, had been nonexistent. Together the two wyrmlings crept toward the yawning shadow, the winding tunnel leading outward from the grotto. Darlantan wasn’t really that hungry-and he knew the bats would be back soon, because they always came back-but for some reason, he suddenly pounced, landing with a rattling growl in the very mouth of the dark corridor.

Aurican would not be outdone. He raced along the far wall, head and body held low against the floor, shimmering wings tight across his spiny back. Tongue flickering, tasting the air, he scuttled forward, belly low against the smooth floor while the golden wyrmling’s yellow eyes glittered brightly in the murky shadows.

Then the grotto was a fading presence behind them. As chilly darkness settled around them, Darlantan realized he could still see, but there was a cloudy vagueness to this place that was very different from the cavern of the nest. That strangeness was not so much frightening as it was exciting, enticing. Auri was still a bright snake of color, darting along the base of the wall, then freezing, sniffing and tasting with a tongue that was like a flash of golden foil.

The other side of the cavern was too far away from his brother, so Darlantan crept down the center of the passageway. Though the ceiling was high and the walls far apart, after the vaulted spaciousness of the grotto, this place seemed strangely confining. He crouched low, studying each gentle curve as they approached it, then charging forward in a clatter of claws on stone and finally halting, seeking sounds and scents.

The cavern was long, and the two dragons paced each other around numerous bends. Despite the chill, Dar’s heart pounded with increasing exhilaration, his body trembling as they alternately lunged and froze, advancing in tandem with steadily increasing confidence.

Awareness of a change grew gradually, until the pair abruptly came to a simultaneous, awe-stricken halt. Darlantan stared upward at such a gulf of shadowy space that he scarcely dared to breathe. For a brief moment, he felt dizzy, forcibly resisting an urge to spring forward, to launch himself into that void. He trembled in place for many heartbeats until, once more, curiosity allowed him to move. Again Auri hurried to keep up.

Dar’s nostril’s itched suddenly, and he sneezed with a burst of sound that brought both of them to a halt.

It was a good thing, too, because the gulf of space he had observed above also extended downward. The cavern floor ended abruptly about a half-pounce ahead of where the two dragons now crouched, once more overcome by awe.

The space around them was as dark as the cavern they had just traversed, but it was also unspeakably, infinitely huge. Darlantan knew without a moment’s questioning that they had discovered the Darkness Beyond. If there was a surface, any object out there, he couldn’t see it.

Looking up, he discerned that the connecting cavern emerged from the side of a rock surface, and the cliff arched outward, an unclimbable overhang looming into the distant shadows. To the right, the face of sheer stone curled away, bending back out of sight in a short distance. To the left, it did the same, though in that direction the shelf upon which they stood curved along the face of rock, offering a path along a wide, smooth ledge.

Once again the silver nostrils twitched, teased by a tickling sensation, but this time Darlantan ducked his neck and shook his head, stifling any outburst. At the same time, he realized that the tickling sensation was caused by a smell, although it was an odor with a tangible presence unique among the many aromas in the nest.

“Look!” Auri hissed, inclining the wedge of his head in a subtle pointing gesture.

The odor was coming from around the cliff, in the direction of the continuing ledge. Darlantan was startled by an impression that he could actually see this scent-at least, he perceived a wisp of whitish vapor trailing through the air. When he blinked and stared again, it was gone. Still, he felt certain he had seen something.

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