17

The Dragon Elders

Chaining up students, thankfully, was not an everyday occurrence at the Academy. Pip’s manacles, linking her wrists behind her back to the manacles fastened to her ankles, were still warm from the blacksmith’s forge.

She scowled over the leather gag Mistress Mya’adara had buckled behind her head. She could tell that Maylin was dying to make a smart comment. Even Yaethi had a smirk for her.

Master Balthion clapped her on the shoulder. “Chew them up, Pip. I’ll try to stop by after the meeting. Kassik will want an update anyway.”

“Mmm,” said Pip.

Shimmerith seemed only too pleased to scoop Pip up in her paw. The Dragon walked to the end of the infirmary, the cave entrance, and launched into the darkening evening sky. The first stars were just pricking through a curtain of velvet blue, while the crescent of the Mystic moon peeked over the volcano’s rim.

Pip stared up at the Dragon’s flight muscles as they worked just above her head. She was starting to notice the differences between Dragons. Shimmerith’s hide was as smooth as a python’s skin, whereas Zardon’s scales were rough and much larger in size. Her flight muscles were large, but nothing compared to Emblazon, who was built like the brawny Sylakian warriors who used to visit the zoo on their days off, only a hundred times larger. Shimmerith sliced through the air with the ease of a honed dagger, whereas Emblazon and Zardon were all about power.

They covered the distance to the nearest volcano in seconds. Shimmerith adjusted her wings minutely, using the thousands of ancillary muscles along the main wing bones and the ancillary struts supporting the wing’s main surface–muscles providing the fine control which made Dragons such agile flyers. They soared up the volcano’s flank, crossing several fissures leaking lava, before diving between the peaks and skirting the edge of the beautiful lake she had seen before.

“The Dragons roost up there,” said Shimmerith, pointing with her chin. “It’s the only dormant peak in this caldera. Those Dragons who have a Rider, roost together with them.”

Pip wanted to say that the peak looked like Sylakian cheese, it had so many caves dotting the near-vertical cliff face on the lake side, but she was forced to keep her silence. Shimmerith swooped past this peak and directly on to the next, where she angled for the yawning mouth of a vast cavern.

“The Dragon Elders meet in here,” the Dragon noted.

She swept down a winding tunnel, taking several sharp bends and blind corners at a pace that had Pip’s heart thumping up in her throat, before breaking out into a cathedral-like cavern, dominated by sparkling rubescent crystal formations which dwarfed even the Dragons lying beneath them. Shimmerith touched down beside a lava pond in which a Red Dragon lolled, patently enjoying a molten rock bath for his vast backside. The heat sucked Pip’s breath away.

Not one of the Dragons gathered to grill the Pygmy girl could be less than a hundred feet in length, Pip realised. There were three Reds, a Yellow, a smaller but no less menacing Blue, a glowering Green of a size which dwarfed Jalador, and a sturdy Brown who clambered onto a stolid pedestal of rock sized to suit even his majestic presence, curling his tail around this perch with an ominous surfeit of purpose. Dragon eyes, fangs and claws encircled her. Pip suppressed an urge to giggle hysterically. These were the creatures who had ordered her gagged, afraid of her Word of Command? If they had any idea how terrified she was, they could just dispense with all the spine-flexing and muscular posturing and get on with the business of sharing a nibble of Pygmy meat to whet their appetites.

Zardon had asked her to write down her story, which Pip had been doing in diary format. ‘Today,’ she wrote in her head, ‘the Dragons gathered for the purpose of snacking on a Pygmy girl, according to the customs of the Dragon-kind.’

“I present the accused, the student Pip,” said Shimmerith, placing Pip carefully on her feet. She felt heat rising through the soles of the boots Mistress Mya’adara had insisted she wear.

Pip nodded respectfully. “Mmm.” Where was Master Kassik?

“Pip,” rumbled the Red in the lava pool. Pip realised he was sitting directly beneath a small flow of molten rock which fed his bath. “I am Blazon, father of Emblazon, leader of the Council of Dragon Elders. We are gathered for the purpose of judgement. The primary accusation is of assaulting the Dragon Shimmerith during the course of her duties, with physical force and with magic.”

His voice rolled over her like thunder. She wondered if they realised how ridiculous the accusation appeared at face value, a tiny Pygmy assaulting a Blue Dragon. At least the fang would grow back. Rajion had assured her of that. But none of the faces around her registered any amusement. Flames licked out of the Green Dragon’s nostrils as he shifted several feet closer. The Yellow flexed his talons.

“However, several other matters have also been raised to this Council,” Blazon continued, “namely your insults to all Dragon-kind, your duping of Jalador the Green, your uncontrolled display of magic, and your connection with the shadow creature discovered by Emblazon.”

At his words, two of the Reds snorted fire out of their nostrils. Pip jumped, but Shimmerith’s paw steadied her at once.

Blazon said, “Will the accused promise, on pain of judgement, not to use any magic during these proceedings?”

Pip bobbed her head again. “Um-hmm.”

Shimmerith?”

A cool claw touched her cheek, slicing the gag apart. Pip had some trouble clearing her mouth, but she finally managed to spit out the pungent leather.

“Who will speak for the accused?”

“Where’s Master Kassik?” Pip whispered to Shimmerith.

“Silence,” she hissed.

“Kassik is right here.” Pip’s head snapped about. Had one of the Dragons spoken? The Brown Dragon … the erect way he perched on that boulder, his expression … “I am Kassik the Brown, Dragon Shapeshifter and Head of the Academy,” he said, in a voice as deep as an earthquake.

Pip could not prevent the squeak that escaped her throat. The Master of the Academy was a Dragon? Who better to run a school for Dragon Riders? Her obvious amazement made several of the Dragons chuckle, but it was not a comforting sound.

The Yellow Dragon, in a surprisingly husky voice, said, “We waste time. I shall dispense with one accusation, at least. I contend that Jalador the Green, being young and unwise–with due respect to the other Greens, mighty Verox–did not grasp the danger posed by this Human girl when she dazzled him with the praises dripping from her snake’s tongue and slithered into the heart of our community.”

The Green Dragon raised his right foreclaw. “Granted.”

“It is so granted,” said Blazon. “Who speaks for the accused?”

“I, Cressilida, shall speak,” said the Blue, her soft voice filled with nuances that escaped Pip’s understanding. Inclining her head almost playfully, she said, “Pip is but a fledgling amongst these Humans. She’s the newest member of a unique community. Coming to us from a troubled background, her introduction to the Academy has been fraught with challenges, not least from her own kind. By her word received from Kassik, she had little notion of the powers hid within her breast before she joined us. What she did today, was to mount a courageous defence of a friend’s life. We should applaud such a noble deed.”

“Further, I pay tribute to Zardon the Red’s wisdom in bringing into our roost one whose miniscule stature conceals gifts unheard of since the days of the Ancient Powers. Of course her magic is uncontrolled. She lacks the most basic training. I contend that we should nurture her powers and turn them to our service. As she grows in wisdom and stature, she shall prove a mighty warrior on the field of battle.” Pip was grateful no Dragon laughed at the word ‘stature’. “And we scent evil on the winds, my friends. Battle will come.”

Blazon nodded. “The defence is well spoken. Any further words, Cressilida?”

Cressilida added, “I deplore her assault on Shimmerith, and most especially her contemptible insults. Pip was puffed up with pride, strutting like a courting Dragon. She must be taught the error of her ways. What better place to teach her than here, beneath Kassik’s tutelage?”

One of the Reds snapped, “And the shadow creature?”

“It hunts her,” Cressilida stated flatly. “It seeks her powers. Imagine such a power corrupted to the works of evil?”

Pip shuddered.

Blazon inclined his head. “The wisdom of Cressilida. Kassik. Your evaluation.”

“The girl did not lie about the shadow creature, which she calls the Shadow Dragon,” said Kassik. The Yellow hawked and spat a glob of molten rock over his shoulder at this. “Or, she believes she does not lie. She knew about her unusual strength before she arrived. It was identified by the Oraial. She knew she could feel magic. And she believes she used a Word of Command when the Oraial was about to die, summoning him back from the spirit-world.”

This last statement raised a snarl of collective hostility from the Dragon Elders.

“How came she to the knowledge of magic?” asked Verox, the venom behind his question clear for all to hear.

Pip?”

She cleared her throat uneasily. “Mighty Blazon, I was never schooled in magic. When I was a child, I was chained for display in a slave market. I broke the pole to which I was chained. That was the first I knew of magic.”

Thankfully, she had anticipated this question. But she was unprepared for the Yellow Dragon roaring, “So, why bother with those flimsy chains? I vote we run a claw through her chest right now!”

“Calm yourself, Lavador,” Blazon raged. “Finish your reply, girl.”

Pip wished her voice sounded stronger. She might have fled, but for the chains binding her ankles. She said, “Lately, I have begun to sense a little of magic, such as when Rajion heals another Dragon. I think it lies within me, untutored, as mighty Cressilida said.”

“Who will speak against the accused?”

Blazon had his pick of at least four voices, including Lavador’s. In the end it was the Yellow’s passion which won out. Turning the blazing pools of his gaze upon Pip, he sneered, “Her presence in this Academy has been based entirely upon a deception. The so-called Shadow Dragon arrived with her. It was never seen over the Cloudlands before. Now there are threats and rumours abroad and Zardon, who chose her, is chasing smoke and vapours around the Islands. The truth is simple. I contend that she is the shadow.”

Pip gasped, but her reaction was drowned by Lavador’s rising volume. Spitting fire, the Dragon said, “In the jungles, she was born. Like a shadow, she slipped among us. Having blinded Zardon to her true nature, she won a place here in this school. But now in extremity her true nature is revealed. None but the Ancient Powers have ever possessed the gift of Command. Even her size is calculated to deceive. Her insults are nothing. Inside that frail quasi-Human shell hides a monster, able to fell a Dragon at a blow, able to bend the very air to her Command and, by Kassik’s own testimony, able to summon a creature from the very portals of the spirit-world. A word from her could slay us all!”

It took Blazon some minutes to calm his Council. “Let the accused be heard.”

Pip did not know where to start. Finally, filled with self-loathing at her fear of the Dragons’ judgement, she turned to Shimmerith and said, “Shimmerith, what were you thinking? What threat does a peaceful, plant-eating Ape pose to the Academy or, Islands’ sakes, to a Dragon?”

By way of answer, Shimmerith bared her teeth.

“You would’ve killed my friend without a thought. You should learn to engage your brain before–”

“–claw and fang?” snarled Blazon, the sheer force of his malevolence driving her back against Shimmerith once more. “You presume to teach the Dragon Elders wisdom, hatchling?” His flaring wings sprayed molten rock either side of him, but he quietened the others once more. “Speak to the accusations or do not speak at all.”

Pip wrestled her temper into submission, but it simmered beneath the surface of her words. “Mighty Blazon, I joined the Academy because of Zardon the Red. He gave me no choice. Of course I wanted to escape. You’re free creatures. Do you understand what it is to leave home, Island and family, and live in captivity for seven summers? I was grateful to have a good friend in the zoo–Hunagu, the Oraial Ape. He cared for me. And Master Balthion, who taught me to speak Island Standard. Blazon, I contend that these accusers disrespect Zardon’s wisdom and insight.”

Low growls echoed in the cavern, but no Dragon spoke.

“I am very sorry I injured Shimmerith. I didn’t think it was possible.” Her voice lowered as, once more, she pictured Hunagu’s foolish grin as Shimmerith drove in for the kill. “But when I saw her about to kill my friend, I reacted. The words I said were perhaps the most foolish words uttered since the dawn of the Island-World. I spoke in anger. I regret it now.” Drawing a shuddering breath, she added, “I respect all Dragons. I will accept the judgement of the Dragon Elders, Blazon.”

From the side, Verox snarled, “Words, little one. What of your heart?”

Pip turned to him, meeting his gaze directly. “Mighty Verox, I wish you could cut open my chest and examine my heart.”

“Easily accomplished.” He gave a smoky snort of amusement.

“If you did, you would find no shadow there,” said Pip, bowing her head to hide her alarm. “If you fear me enough to demand these chains, then know that I fear the Shadow Dragon a thousand times more. It is a cold killer, a creature of another time and perhaps another place. Yes, I fear it is hunting me. Zardon said that even here, in this school, I should beware of those who might want to use my magic, or use me. I beg you, Dragon Elders–let me learn. Teach me. You Dragons are the mightiest magic-users in our Island-World. I will listen and learn from all your wisdom. I will do good, I promise.”

“The accused has spoken,” said Blazon. “Be silent, little one, whilst we confer in private.” Dragons, what is your judgement?

The child lies, Lavador growled at once. Toss that creature into a volcano before she destroys us all.

The threat is real, said Kassik. We heard Emblazon’s report. No known creature of this Island-World behaves as he described. Evil is abroad, Dragon-kin. We must be great in cunning and wisdom. This little one has unspeakable power. How, I know not. We must not alienate her, lest she become the enemy. That, as Lavador rightly claims, would doom us all.

Suddenly, it struck Pip. They were speaking another language, yet she understood. It gave her a headache to listen to it, as though some unsuspected part of her brain had just been turned inside-out. They were talking mind-to-mind.

Dragon minds surrounded her, beautiful, shining Dragon thoughts, full of the wisdom and magic of the ages. Pip shuffled in her place, looking from one Dragon to the other. There was Lavador, all heat and anger, yet with a great heart–three hearts–pulsing within him, concerned for the hatchlings and fledglings and Dragon families entrusted to his care. Here was Verox, cold and cunning, and deeply jealous of her gifts. The other two Reds, bristling with hostility. Blazon, opposite, fighting a visceral fear that Lavador was right, yet seeking to uphold justice at all costs. Shimmerith, the beautiful Blue Dragon, with waterfalls of music rippling in her hearts, the healer and forgiver, who could hardly bear to see Pip accused. And there on the boulder, Master Kassik, the oldest of the Dragon Elders, a dark pool as still and wide as the night sky, a presence that overshadowed the others.

She’s only a hatchling, Cressilida added. Hatchlings are thoughtless; they need instruction from their elders.

You say this because you miss your lost one, dear heart. This came from one of the Reds, whose name she had not learned. Compassion born in sorrow; yet, I know you see into her soul. What do you see?

The little one’s intentions are pure.

Verox said, Why don’t you invite her to swim in that lava pool with you, Blazon? She’ll soon spit out the truth, even as she entertains us with her screaming.

I’d have her for a toothpick, said one of the other Reds.

Blazon said, Shimmerith?

I am ashamed. I failed in my duty today, said Shimmerith. Her power was too great for me. Yet I have worked with this little one, and I believe Cressilida is right, her heart is good but her passions overruled. We must embrace her with a firm yet loving paw.

Pip had to interrupt. This was not right. Finally, she managed to work a few words past the fear constricting her throat. “Um, Shimmerith?”

“Silence, child!” snapped Blazon, with a quelling glare.

Pip bit her tongue in concentration. Blazon. I understand you.

Blazon’s jaw sagged in disbelief and surprise. He coughed out a fireball. Pip instinctively tried to dive aside, but the chains made her trip and fall flat on her face–which saved her life. The fireball seared across her back and splattered against Shimmerith’s flank. She rolled frantically across the blistering rocks, trying to put out her smouldering trousers, smelling a sickly-sweet stench that she realised was her hair burning. A paw stopped her before she rolled into the lava pond; claws scooped her roughly into the air.

That was close, said Shimmerith. The coolness of healing magic bathed her body.

Pip bit back a whimper. She had no time for weakness. Um … what does this mean? Shimmerith?

Shimmerith looked helplessly to Kassik, who tipped off his boulder rather precipitously and stalked over to Pip, his every massive footstep shaking the ground. His great, hoary muzzle lowered toward her. She wondered what insane twists of fate kept having her end up facing Dragon after Dragon at the sharp end of their fangs.

Trapped in Shimmerith’s paw, she had no choice but to face her fate. Any moment now his fangs would flash and impale her frail Human body, she imagined.

Instead, he said, You understand every word, Pip?

Why was that important? Again, Pip reached inside to summon the strange language. It … feels weird, but I do understand. Am I speaking Dragonish, Master Kassik?

Indeed–perfect, eloquent Dragonish. Kassik’s massive knuckle tapped her chest. Humans can learn to speak Dragonish, especially Riders. But only Dragons are born speaking our tongue with such fluency. Pip, you’re a Shapeshifter, like me. You are a Dragon.

Pip shrank back in Shimmerith’s paw. “N-n-no …”

His great eye, a furnace of saffron and earthy colours mixed together, fixed her with a gaze that was fierce, proud and altogether terrifying. He said, This changes everything, little one. You are one of us, now.