Ширли Мерфи - The Dragonbards

*

The sky was the color of copper, the sun gone behind the mountains, when Seastrider and Windcaller winged up between streaks of cloud. Below, on the island, Marshy and the otters were crowded together, waving. The five dragonlings had settled obediently among the rocks. Take care, they thought. Take care.

Soon Nightpool was only a speck below on the burnished sea. Ahead shone the lights of Ratnisbon. Colewolf and Camery were already there, in the Palace of Ratnisbon, making battle plans with Ebis the Black. Camery carried the lyre now. Teb would not take it into Aquervell, so near the dark leaders. If they failed in this rescue, Quazelzeg must not have the Lyre of Bayzun.

But they would not fail. The unliving would not keep the bard children.

As they winged above Ratnisbon Palace, an image touched them of Camery and Colewolf standing before Ebis’s hearthfire beside his tall, broad figure. Outside the palace, the black shapes of Starpounder and Nightraider paced the rocky shore. Our love is with you, the dragons thought.

And ours with you, Teb said.

Go with the Light, Camery said.

With the Graven Light, said Colewolf.

Kiri tasted salt on her lips and scrubbed at her dried tears. She hadn’t known she was going to cry when she left Papa. They had been parted a hundred times in the war on Dacia—she should be used to parting. Not half an hour ago, Colewolf had held her, stroking her hair. We are together always, Kiri wren, even when we are apart. You are bone of my bone, child. Blood of my blood—courage of my courage.

Yes, she thought. Yes, I will be like you, Papa. She looked across at Teb, filled with a sudden and reckless wonder, both that she could have the courage of Colewolf, and that she was with Teb, the two of them going to outwit the dark alone. She saw Teb silhouetted against the burnished sky, against endless spaces, and she felt dizzy with excitement. He grinned back at her, and joined his hands in a sign of strength.

The dragons cut north. The continents and small islands lay like black jewels on the copper sea, each circled by a ring of white waves. Their world was so beautiful. The dark must not have all this. Ahead lay three large continents nearly hidden by tall clouds rising like golden mountains. Beyond these was Dacia. They would pass high above her home. She thought of Gram down there, alone, and missed her. There was so much she would like to tell Gram—you could tell Gram anything.

The dragons flew straight into the clouds, where the heavy mist turned the wind chill. Kiri huddled down against Windcaller. They had been flying through the clouds for some time, and it was nearly dark, when Teb twisted around to look back. We’re followed.

Kiri turned, her hand on her sword, and saw a white shape cutting through the mist. A white owl? No, too big for an owl. As the two dragons lifted, it drew closer, its wings pulling the mist into scarves.

Dragonling, Kiri thought.

Iceflower! said Seastrider.

Lose her! Teb said. The dragons banked away fast. Go home! Teb said angrily. You have no business here.

The dragonling was silent, beating at the mist with powerful strokes, gaining on them. When Seastrider spun and dove at her to drive her back, they saw Marshy hunched down between her wings.

“Go back!” Teb shouted.

“No!” Marshy cried. “We’re coming with you.”

“No, you’re not. Go back! It’s too dangerous. Iceflower is too weak.”

“We came to help. She’s strong—she’s all well.”

Teb’s anger made him silent. Then, You can come as far as Dacia Palace. You will stay there, Garit will look after you.

We don’t want to be looked after! We came to help. We don’t want to be left somewhere.

Teb said nothing more. Kiri knew he was smiling and saw him shake his head, as much with admiration as in anger. Marshy and Iceflower were a stubborn team. Seastrider and Windcaller moved close to Iceflower, escorting her on between them.

When they crossed the next high mountains, the cold wind pushed up so hard that the dragons were lifted with it. Kiri shivered. Marshy must be freezing. The little boy sat very straight, his chin jutting. When they quit the cloud cover, below them lay Dacia.

The crowded city dropped steeply down the black mountain to the wharfs and the sea. It was lit more brightly than Kiri had ever seen it. As they swept low, she could see that these were not the once-familiar lights of taverns and brothels, but the lights of cottages and shops and street corners where vendors had set up booths. She could see folk strolling the streets, and on one corner they were dancing. Nothing could say more sharply that Dacia had been freed of the dark. The dragons banked across the wind, toward the black mountain.

They passed over the palace courtyard lit with the wavering light of the torches set in its walls. The black mountain ridge rose above the palace towers. The moon was lifting above the mountain, spilling light along the jagged stone. The big dragons headed for the ridge, forcing Iceflower between them.

They came down carefully among boulders. Iceflower dove into a hollow between boulders and huddled there, waiting to be scolded. They could all feel Marshy’s defiance. Teb went to Iceflower and laid a hand on Marshy’s knee.

“You are not going to Aquervell,” Teb said quietly. “You were wrong to follow us. You will—” He was interrupted by a whirring wind and wild screams. The bards spun around, their swords drawn, as the dragons reared, spitting flame.

But then the bards lowered their swords, laughing, and the dragons calmed. A band of tiny owls was sweeping around their heads.

“Elf owls!” Kiri cried, holding out her arms to them.

They landed on her arms and shoulders and head, soft gray owls no bigger than her hand. They flew to Teb and Marshy, and perched along the dragons’ backs.

“Who are you?” they hissed. “Ooo-ooo, who has come to the mountain?”

“Dragons,” one hissed. “Only one folk bring dragons.”

They had spectacled faces, round yellow eyes, and no visible ears. One owl tucked down under Marshy’s chin, another beneath Kiri’s hair. Their leader hung in the air in front of Teb’s face, his wings fanning.

“Ooo-ooo. A name, young bard. What is your name?”

“Tebriel. I am Tebriel.”

“And the others?”

“Kiri, of Dacia. Marshy, of Dacia. Who will you take your information to?”

“You tell me, young bard.”

“To Garit the Red,” Teb said. “You are a fine cadre of guards Garit has chosen.”

The owls hissed and fluttered. “Go tell Garit,” said the leader. Three owls sped away, over the ridge toward the palace.

It was not long until Garit came galloping up the mountain, led by owls and holding his lantern high. He jumped off his moving mount and grabbed Teb and Kiri up in a wild hug. “Where did you come from, in the middle of the night! Where’s Camery? Colewolf? What . . . ?”

“They’re fine,” Teb said. “They’re at Ratnisbon. We’ll tell you all of it, all that’s happened. But meantime . . .” He glanced toward Iceflower, nearly hidden among the boulders, and the dark lump that was Marshy, sitting on her back.

Garit stared. His silence was long, broken by a sigh of astonished pleasure. He went to stand before the young dragon, looking up at Marshy.

“You have found your dragon,” he said softly. “You have found each other.”

Marshy nodded but remained quiet.

Garit held out his arms. “What’s wrong?”

Marshy looked down unhappily, then slid down into Garit’s hug, hiding his face against Garit’s heavy red beard.