Tad Williams - The Dragons of Ordinary Farm

Thinking about the fire, trying her best to think dragon thoughts, Lucinda suddenly felt herself sinking into Meseret’s thoughts. She was Meseret, although a bit of Lucinda remained.

Fire! She could feel it now-not in her stomach, but waiting in sacs on either side of her throat, although she didn’t think of it as anything so foreign as “fire.” It was a part of her like her wing tips or her teeth, a bright, hot fan of defense and display she could spread in front of herself with only a thought-defense, display, and one even more important task, one she had not been able to complete and that gnawed at her like a wound. But she was not really thinking of the fire right now, just feeling it, as she could feel her pinions driving, as she could feel her heart beating thunderously in her breast. She was thinking only of her egg.

Her eyes roved over the landscape, looking for anything. She saw figures moving-antlike pale blobs scurrying below, the heat of their existence as plain as the light of the stars overhead. She stooped, anger rushing up inside her again…

Lucinda was startled back into her own thoughts by the steepness of the dive, the finality of the intent.

“No!” she screamed. “No! Don’t!”

But Lucinda’s objections, her piping human voice meant nothing. It was Meseret herself who realized that the running shapes beneath her had nothing to do with her lost offspring. She could smell their… egglessness from hundreds of feet above them. She abruptly lost interest and banked upward. They did not have what she was seeking.

The dragon’s thoughts now pulled Lucinda down again.

Her egg. It was not a thought, even, so much as a feeling. Her egg. A glowing ball of light, of… possibility. But so many things had gone wrong since she had begun preparing to birth it-it gave her so much pain! First there had been none of the just-right-smelling earth to eat and the shell had not felt right. Because of that she had not been able to quicken it with her breath, and it had lain soundless and warmthless long beyond the time it should have come to life-dead, just like all the others. But unlike all the others, this one had not fully succumbed. Somewhere inside it the spark still lived, although it was growing faint.

Then it had been stolen, and now it was being taken even farther away, and despite the sleepiness and foolishness that made her head so heavy and her thoughts so slow, someone would pay for that.

A joyful fantasy of shredding human flesh like lettuce, tearing and throwing and swallowing, made Lucinda shudder back into her own thoughts.

I felt her-I really felt her! That was Meseret!

The dragon stooped again. Something stood on the ground in the near distance-something bigger than any of the two-legged rat-monkeys, something much bigger. In Meseret’s mind’s eye, and in Lucinda’s now, too, it looked something like a giant dragonfly, glowing near the circling wings with the heat of its building energy. More little blobs of light stood around it like eggs, like lice, like maggots, and one of them had her egg. All the rat-monkeys that held her and restrained her, and now that had stolen from her. Meseret hated them with a bright, white-hot hatred…

The helicopter, Lucinda thought. It’s just like Carmen and Alma said. That must be where Colin’s going-but why?

The death-dealing urge throbbed through Meseret like a single, high-pitched note of song. Her wings creaked as she accelerated, the increased wind almost yanking Lucinda up off the creature’s back.

No! Lucinda did her best to find that feeling again, the feeling the dragon herself felt. Don’t-you’ll kill them all, and your egg too! Let me help you!

What? It came to her as an eddy of startled thought, curling and curious. Someone else was in Meseret’s thoughts, and even through her storm of fury it caught the dragon by surprise. Who?

Lucinda. The… rat-monkey. I’m on your back, don’t you know that? I got tangled in the straps when you got out of the Sick Barn. Little of this seemed to be getting through, so she tried to summon up the memories as pictures in her mind, like a movie-the struggle, the dragon’s escape, herself clinging for dear life.

You… talk? Talk dragon?

I don’t know-sort of… But you have to stop. I’ll help you, but you can’t attack that… big insect thing. She pictured the helicopter as Meseret saw it and tried to show it to her as she saw it, so that for a moment it was both things at the same time, alive and not alive, dragonfly and craft full of passengers. You’ll kill everyone, and we’ll never get your egg back.

No matter. The thought was bleak and ragged, but final. Egg too long gone. Not quickened. Dead like others. The thoughts didn’t quite make sense, but the refusal was crystal clear. Egg thief dies. Flying insect house dies. We die. Doesn’t matter. No eggs, ever. Nothing matters. Nothing.

The dragon’s drugged despair brought tears to Lucinda’s eyes but there was no time to sympathize. Meseret was flying more erratically even as she drew closer to the waiting helicopter, the sedative Haneb had given her now becoming a smothering fog across her thoughts.

Please! Lucinda thought, trying to reach her again. Please let me help! I don’t want to die-my mother will miss me! I’m someone’s egg too!

For a moment the remorseless beating of Mesert’s wings slowed. A bit of clear light broke through the cloudiness of her thoughts like a shaft of sun. She banked and began a long descent toward the ground.

She heard me-she understood! Lucinda let out the breath she had been holding so long she couldn’t remember when she’d taken it. Then the helicopter engines boomed and roared and it began to rise into the air.

NO! The thought itself was like a jet of Meseret’s flame, leaping out, burning everything else to flaking ash. NO NO NO NO! The ground heaved up beneath them just as the dragon drove her wings down, caught the wind, and banked upward, rocketing toward the rising copter.

“Don’t do it!” Lucinda screamed, but communication was finished. The dragon, muddled and despairing, was no longer listening. Meseret skimmed the pinnacle of a copse of trees, then sped forward. Lucinda could see nothing on her own, but she could still sense something of the dragon’s thought, see something of what Meseret saw. The horizon, the growing, glowing shadow of the insectoid helicopter, all tilted as a wave of dizziness went through her, and at the last moment the dragon veered-but too late. She did not hit the helicopter head-on, but still bounced off its side with a crash like a bomb going off. One of the blades struck Meseret’s wing in a bolt of red agony that seemed to light up Lucinda’s own brain like fire, then dragon and helicopter both teetered in the air, struggling to regain balance, swung apart, and dropped out of the sky.

“W hy are we running?” asked Steve Carrillo, struggling for breath. “I’m tired of running. I’ve been running and hiding for days.”

Tyler stopped to let them all catch their breath. “Because you really need to get off this property. Just… trust me on that.”

Carmen straightened up and pushed her hair out of her face. “Running and hiding? You spent the whole day yesterday lying on your back playing Coils of the Man-Serpent. You fell asleep with the controller in your hands!”

“I’m not talking about that yesterday. I was in that mirror for days,” Steve said. “It just didn’t seem like it to you.”

“We’re going to be hearing this for years,” Carmen said. “ ‘Steve, is your room clean?’ ‘Couldn’t do it, Mom, I fell into a mirror and I was gone for, like, a month.’ ”

Little Alma patted her brother’s arm. “I believe you, Stevie.”