James Maxey: Dragonseed

Jandra pushed a bag of shot into the gun.

Suddenly, there was a heavy weight clawing up her back. Lizard, the dragon-child, scrambled onto her shoulder and flashed the same shade of green as her coat.

"No eat! No eat!" he hissed at Frost.

"And now you harbor dragons?" asked Ragnar.

"Where did that come from?" Shay asked, approaching Jandra. "Did it just change color?"

"He was sitting by the fireplace," said Jandra. "He blends into the background when he's not moving."

"Remarkable," said Shay. "The chameleon mutation is exceedingly rare; fewer than one in ten thousand earth-dragons display it. When he's fully grown, he'll become part of the assassin unit known as the Black Silence."

Jandra already knew more than she wanted to know about these assassins. She'd nearly died when one of them had slit her throat.

"If he's one of those monsters, it's all the more reason to kill him," said Frost.

"And all the more proof that you are a witch," growled Ragnar.

"Consorting with dragons doesn't make one a witch," Shay argued. "I've been a slave of dragons since birth, yet I'm not a witch. I've come to volunteer for the cause. I confess I am lacking as a warrior, but I have other skills that may prove useful. I've brought books, great works from the Human Age." He held up a tome by Charles Darwin in one hand and by Adam Smith in the other. "If there are children here, I could set up a school. I want to lay the foundation for a new golden age of humanity."

Ragnar walked toward Shay, his eyes contemplating the books. He picked up the copy of The Origin of Species. The book was over a thousand years old. Shay held his breath as Ragnar opened the yellowed pages. Jandra's finely tuned eyes could see the dust that showered down from the book as it was opened, fine flecks of the ancient paper crumbling away.

"It's very fragile," Shay said softly, as if fearing that his own breath might damage the pages. "Please be careful. I intend to transcribe it before I-"

"The world needs only one book," Ragnar said, closing the pages with a violent clap. He flung the tome into the fireplace.

Shay sucked air, as if he'd been punched in the stomach. He dived for the fireplace, reaching into the bright flames to retrieve the book. He snatched it out, but it was too late. The ancient paper flared as quickly as gunpowder in a flash pan. In seconds, all that remained of the manuscript was a mound of black ash.

"You monster!" Shay, shouted, spinning around, his fists clenched. "Do you know what you just destroyed?"

"Useless old words by a man long dead," said Ragnar. His Mighty Men drew their swords, ready to strike if Shay approached.

Jandra raised her gun. Frost stepped back behind Stonewall.

"Stop this!" Burke snapped, wincing as he shifted in his seat. "Ragnar, you're not taking Jandra. She's brought us the formula for gunpowder. Right now, I'm designing and testing weapons that will make the sky-wall bows seem like toys. She and I are the only two people who know the secret. If you so much as lay a finger on Jandra, I'll have Anza slit my throat. I won't use my talents in the service of a man dedicated to launching a new dark age."

"Suicide will damn your soul to eternal torment," Ragnar growled.

"And it will rob you of the weapons that will let mankind rule this world. I'm a pessimist, Ragnar. I've anticipated that you'd ruin this since the day we met. I've been in constant, non-stop, pain since Charkon ruined my leg. Don't think I wouldn't welcome death."

Ragnar glared at Burke, as if trying to determine if the machinist was bluffing. Ragnar frowned; no doubt in his mind all heathens were unstable enough to kill themselves out of spite. The prophet turned his gaze toward Jandra. Lizard hissed at the hairy man. Glowering, Ragnar looked toward Shay, then to the pile of books beside the leather backpack.

"Take the books," he barked to Stonewall.

"No!" said Shay, rushing to grab the pile.

"Let him have the books," Burke snapped. Anza leapt forward, sword drawn, putting herself between Shay and the bag. She shook her head slowly as she eyed Shay.

"These may be the only copies of these books left in the world," Shay said, on the verge of begging. "You can't let him take them."

"Books aren't equal to human lives," Burke grumbled. "Ragnar, take the books. Use them to wrap fish for all I care. As for Jandra, she's leaving Dragon Forge before nightfall. You won't have to worry about her witching up any more of your men."

"I'll allow her to leave," Ragnar said, "provided she doesn't return."

"Fine," said Burke.

"But-" said Jandra.

"Drop it," Burke said, through gritted teeth. It was obvious that the stress of the encounter was causing him great pain.

Stonewall gathered up the books and went to Ragnar's side. Ragnar and his Mighty Men turned and went back to the elevator. He glanced back over his shoulder.

"Burke," he said. "Don't think I will tolerate your blasphemy indefinitely. I can be pushed too far."

"So can I," said Burke, narrowing his eyes. The elevator rumbled, lowering Ragnar and his men from view.

Shay fell to his knees in front of the charred remains of the book on the hearth. "This book survived twelve centuries, only to vanish at the whim of a fanatic. Why did you give him the books, Kanati? I would have thought you, of all people, would have valued those writings. Aren't you one of the Anudahdeesdee? The tribe that calls itself the Memory?"

"The Anudahdeesdee have copies of all the books you showed me," said Burke. "I've got a collection of over two-hundred manuscripts in the basement of my tavern. The physical books you lost were rare, but the information inside them is more than just the paper they're printed on. Information is essentially immortal with a little technological assistance. At my tribal home beyond the mountains, my people maintain an old press to preserve copies of essential works. We lost nothing here today."

Shay perked up. "There's a printing press in human control? That's fantastic! I wish I could see it."

"Maybe you can," said Burke. "You aren't going to be on Ragnar's list of favorite people. You should get out of here tonight. Go with Jandra and Anza. They'll be passing through Burke's Tavern, my adopted hometown. Assuming the town is still standing, and hasn't fallen victim to reprisals by retreating earth-dragons, there's a map in my basement that would be of interest to you. It contains instructions on how to go to my homeland. It's coded, but Anza can give you the key."

"But… but I only just arrived," said Shay. "I came to fight for the liberty of mankind."

"Stay here and you'll get your throat cut in your sleep by one of the Mighty Men," said Burke. "You've never held a sword in your life, have you?"

Shay lowered his head, looking embarrassed. "No, sir."

"You're lucky I've already forged the pieces to make a second shotgun," said Burke. "The beauty of a gun is the way it equalizes the slave and the warrior. Let me get the crew to assemble it and whip you up an ammo belt. I'll send you off with Anza, Jandra, and Vance."

Shay looked as if he were about to argue further, but held his tongue. Lizard, still on Jandra's shoulder, stared intently as Burke rolled his wheeled chair over to the elevator and pulled the lever to raise the cage.

"Strong boss," the little dragon whispered, sounding awed.

VULPINE DRIFTED ON the winds high above Dragon Forge, with Balikan a few yards off his left wing. Reports were that the sky-wall bows could reach a mile, and Vulpine took care to stay well beyond that range. He could see scores of humans armed with bows crowded onto the thick stone walls that surrounded the town. They watched him closely, though he knew at this distance he was little more than a speck.