20 - Full Circle

Speechless, Lief, Barda and Jasmine clung to the topaz dragon as it flew to take its place in the circle of dragons surrounding the grey sea. They watched in wonder as the dragons dropped lower, lower and hovered.

Then, without a word or signal, the dragons roared.

Flame gushed from their jaws. Flame of green, gold and scarlet. Flame of purple and silver-white. Blue flame filled with stars, and flame that burned with all the colours of the rainbow.

… the Enemy fears dragons, it seems. Even two are too many for him …

And what of six? Lief thought. Then he changed the number to seven, for he saw the baby diamond dragon gravely hovering beside Veritas, adding her own small, silver-white flame to the fire.

The edges of the grey tide scorched and blackened, and when the circle was bounded by a broad black band, the dragons began moving slowly, patiently inward. Whenever they breathed, they breathed fire, and wherever the fire fell, the grey burned and died. And no dragon moved on while any patch of grey remained.

On and on the dragons moved, their circle tightening, as the great moon rose and paled and stars filled the blackness of the sky.

Gradually the grey inside the circle grew less, and the black band outside it grew broader. By the time Steven’s caravan pulled to a halt on the bank of the clogged River Broad, the people who tumbled out to stare in wonder could see more black than grey.

And at last the dragons were so close together that the tips of their wings were touching. Together they roared, and the colours of their fires mingled in a rainbow blaze. And when that last, great fire had died, nothing remained of the Shadow Lord’s terror but a vast circle of blackened ash.

In the centre of the dark circle the dragons hovered, as if unwilling to end the moment. Diamond, emerald, lapis-lazuli, topaz, opal, ruby and amethyst, they joined to relish their triumph, grieve for what had been lost, and look to the future.

And all who looked upon that scene were swept by a great wave of joy and wonder. For they saw that the shining wings of the dragons were like the gems of the Belt of Deltora, blazing in the sky.

And so it was that the last plan of the Shadow Lord was undone by the will of Deltora’s last dragons, and the kingdom of Deltora was safe.

In years to come, the story would become a legend. The night called Dragon Night would be Deltora’s greatest festival of the year, celebrated with feasts, dancing, games, and circles of fireworks from across the silver sea. Children dressed as Lief, Barda and Jasmine would ride dragons made of painted wood and shining cloth, and at midnight a great bonfire would be lit in every town and village in the land, and Deltora would ring with cheers.

But the people who witnessed that first Dragon Night from the other side of the River Broad were too awe-struck to cheer. As it happened, or perhaps because fate had decreed it, every one of Deltora’s seven dragon territories was represented among them. For Steven had said that Zerry of the Mere must have his place in the caravan, and Zerry, his eyes dark with wonder, was standing with the rest, for once lost for words.

Lief himself could do no more than silently give thanks. But when at last the dragons settled to the earth, onto the blackened circle they had made, he felt their unblinking eyes upon him and knew he had to speak. And he knew what he had to say.

‘My name is Lief,’ he said, and bowed his head. ‘Forgive me for using the names that Dragonfriend carried in his heart. I did it for the sake of our land, and his.’

The dragons considered. Then they all bowed in reply, even the emerald dragon of honour, if rather stiffly.

‘It is not so easy, however,’ it said. ‘You called us all at the same time. Now we know each other’s true names, as well as yours, for any fool could guess which dragon name is which. This is an evil that cannot be undone.’

Lief swallowed. ‘It cannot be undone,’ he said. ‘But perhaps it is not an evil.’

The emerald dragon snorted. ‘To know a being’s true name is to give power over that being,’ it said.

‘Then we all have power over one another,’ said the dragon of the lapis-lazuli pertly. ‘And I, for one, have no intention of risking your revenge—Honora.’

The emerald dragon bared its teeth. ‘Very wise—Fortuna,’ it hissed, but said no more.

‘What is my name?’ squeaked the little diamond dragon.

‘Your name is Forta,’ said Veritas. ‘Forta—after your mother.’

At dawn, three dragons flew into Del—golden Fidelis, scarlet Joyeu, and Fortuna, the dragon of the lapis-lazuli.

Fidelis carried Lief, Barda and Jasmine. Joyeu carried Doom, Lindal and Manus. Fortuna carried Gla-Thon, Ranesh and Gers. Gers, his broad face pale as paper, was seen to kiss the ground when the ride was over, but swore till his dying day that he had merely stumbled.

Though it was so early, and though few in Del had any idea of the peril their land had just escaped, the city was alive with rejoicing people. Most had been awake all night.

First, four Kin had arrived from Dread Mountain, their pouches bulging with gems to heal the sick and test the remaining food. Then the city gates had flown open of themselves, and Torans by the hundred had swept in, drawing carts piled high with food from across the silver sea.

Some yellow notices still blew, trampled and muddy, on the streets. But no-one noticed them or cared.

The dragons crouched uneasily together on the palace lawn as their passengers slid from their backs. They accepted renewed thanks gravely, then prepared to depart, for Joyeu and Fortuna felt like trespassers, and Fidelis longed for the hills.

‘I hope I may see you again, king of Deltora,’ Fidelis said. ‘But I will not come again to Del. The spears and arrows of your friends are not pleasing to me.’

Gla-Thon winced, but Lindal lifted her chin.

‘I regret harming you, dragon,’ she said loudly and clearly. ‘But I believed you were destroying the palace, as once the red dragons destroyed ancient Capra, out of envy for its beauty.’

‘Indeed?’ Fortuna said with interest.

The dragon of the ruby hissed. Its red eyes darkened.

‘You have been listening to lies, I fear, woman of Broome,’ it said stiffly, after a moment’s tense silence. ‘My ancestors destroyed Capra, certainly. But why would dragons envy a small, pink city made of stones? The whole of the east was the ruby dragons’ kingdom—a kingdom of land, sea and sky far more beautiful than a city could ever be.’

Lief’s throat tightened. He saw at once that the dragon was right.

Lindal stared in confusion.

‘The Capricons were most proud of the city they had built,’ the dragon went on softly. ‘They planted elegant trees all around it, trees hung with hundreds of little red lanterns. Did you know that, woman of Broome?’

‘I have heard of it,’ Lindal said warily, plainly wondering where this was leading.

‘And did you know,’ the dragon asked, even more softly, ‘that those pretty lanterns were made of dragons’ eggs? Live eggs, stolen from nests while the dragons were away fishing? Eggs sucked dry, then fitted with candles and strung on the trees to make the city beautiful?’

Lindal seemed to freeze where she stood. Lief felt the blood drain from his face. He wanted to bow his head in shame, but he could not look away from the dragon’s darkened eyes.

‘Three times did the ruby dragons warn that the slaughter of their young must stop,’ the dragon said. ‘But the Capricons were proud, and drunk with their desire to add to Capra’s splendour. The plunder increased. And so, at last, the dragons stopped it, in their own way.’

Lindal wet her lips. ‘I see now how it was,’ she said. ‘I heard only one side of the story, and this led me to judge your tribe unfairly. I beg your pardon.’

The dragon stared at her, unblinking. ‘I accept your apology,’ it said at last. ‘And though I refuse to swear an oath that is an insult to my ancestors, I make this promise to you, as friend to friend. I will not harm any human in my land, as long as no human in my land harms me or my kin.’

‘Thank you,’ Lindal said humbly. ‘I can ask no more. And I will tell them. I will tell them all.’

One bright morning the following spring, when Deltora was filled with blossom, when bees were drunk with nectar and birds filled the air with song, Jasmine put on a green silk dress, threaded flowers in her hair, and went out to meet Lief on the palace hill.

Hand in hand they were married there, before a crowd the like of which Del had never seen. Barda stood beside Lief. Marilen stood beside Jasmine. Sharn and Doom looked on, and remembered.

Lindal was watching, with a laughing, dancing crowd from Broome. Gla-Thon was there from Dread Mountain, with old Fa-Glin, Pi-Ban who had shared the companions’ adventure in the Shadowlands, and the gentle Kin, Ailsa, Bruna, Merin and Prin.

There were Torans in their hundreds, Zeean at their head, silken robes fluttering like butterflies.

Manus and the people of Raladin were present, their flutes filling the air with gladness. Fardeep the hermit, now once again master of the Games Inn of Rithmere, clapped his hands and sang with Orwen and Joanna, games champions of the Mere. Gers and a troop of Jalis stood proudly with Hellena, Claw and Brianne, Resistance fighters of the Shadowlands.

All the men and women of the old Resistance were present. All the freed prisoners from the Shadowlands were there. And Zerry, magician’s apprentice of the Masked Ones, now chief assistant to the new palace stable master, and wearing his first new suit of clothes for the celebration, made sure that Honey, Bella and Swift saw everything that passed.

Every friend the companions had made on their travels was present to wish them well, from Tira of Noradz to Steven and Queen Bee of the Plains, from Bede and Mariette of Shadowgate to Nanion and Ethena of D’Or.

Even Tom the shopkeeper had taken a holiday in honour of the great event, and appeared in dusty finery with his sister Ava on his arm.

And the dragons Veritas, Forta, Hopian, Honora, Fortuna, Fidelis and Joyeu circled in the sky above.

But for Lief and Jasmine it was as if they were quite alone, for both of them were gaining the dearest wish of their hearts.

In days to come, while the infant Josef slept in a basket beside her, Marilen would write the story of their marriage in the Deltora Annals, for she was the palace librarian now. Ranesh had more than enough to do, for Doom had left for parts unknown. Doom wanted to stretch his legs and his mind, he said, and to find out if it was true that a dragon can lay eggs without a mate, if the need arises. He would meet them in Broome in the summer, when Barda and Lindal wed. He knew the celebrations of Broome, he said, and would not miss this one for the world.

And so life went on in Deltora, and life was good.

Barda and Lindal had six children, all of them taller than their parents, and as alike as peas in a pod.

Lief and Jasmine had a daughter, Anna, and twin boys, Jarred and Endon.

And sometimes Doom, home from one of his many journeys and silently watching the twins at play, would remember two other boys running through the palace gardens, long ago. And he would smile.

With Jasmine by his side, Lief ruled the land long and wisely. But he never forgot that he was a man of the people, and that their trust in him was the source of his power. Neither did he forget that the Enemy, though defeated, was not destroyed. He knew that the Enemy was clever and sly, and that to its anger and envy a thousand years was like the blink of an eye. So he wore the Belt of Deltora always, and never let it out of his sight.