Warding Song

The sunlight beat down on her wings, and a pleasantly cool wind kept her aloft. Trill glanced at her best friend; it was good to know he was with her. She drifted closer and brushed the tip of her wing against his. Chirr-See looked over and chirped inquisitively. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“What do you mean?” Trill asked him, puzzled.

He shrugged and replied, “Like you missed me, I guess.”

It felt like something was on her shoulders, but when she looked back, nothing was there. She’d ask Chirr-See to groom it for her, but realised the drake was nowhere to be seen. A panicked cry rose in her throat … only to feel a sharp nip on her tail. Trill squawked and twisted in mid-air.

Chirr-See chittered. “You sound like a seabird,” he told her; Trill hissed at him. He pulled ahead, flicking his tail back and forth. Eyes narrowed, she lunged forwards to snap at it, but he whipped it aside and dodged away, laughing.

Trill gave chase. She couldn’t fly as fast as him. “Come back!” she called to his swiftly-departing form. “I can’t keep up! Chirr-See, please, come … come back … ” Great sorrow fell over her. He was gone, and it was all her fault.

Suddenly, he was flying beside her, as if he’d never left. “You’re back?”

“I haven’t gone anywhere.” Chirr-See decided “I think you’re getting tired. Come on, I saw a place where we can rest.” Trill followed him to an island she didn’t remember noticing before. It was a small mountain, covered with loads of tall, tangled plants and streams. Trill stared around, getting the peculiar feeling that the place was familiar. “Have we been here before?”

“I don’t think so.” They found a cave and lay down side-by-side within. Trill let out an affectionate purr, and entwined her tail with Chirr-See’s. He draped his wing over her back, and she rested her head on his shoulders. All was right with Trill’s world, and she drifted off into a contented sleep.

Trill’s rest was disturbed. First by scents, bitter and unpleasant, making her nostrils twitch. She moaned and nestled closer to Chirr-See. His scales were rough and hard; Trill couldn’t feel the weight of his wing over her back. Nor was his tail braided with hers … perturbed, she opened her eyes.

The isle was unrecognisable; gone were the plants, only dusty grey rock and black dried rivers of lava remained. Trill let out a whimper. She had been leaning up against a boulder, and Chirr-See was nowhere in sight …

Further away came sounds of shouting and roaring – he was in danger! Trill ran towards the noise, claws scrabbling in the dirt, forgetting her wings.

Chirr-See was surrounded by wingless ones, pulling at vines of shiny-rock that tangled around his legs, wings and neck. Trill bellowed and charged, jaws gaping. To her horror, no flames burst forth from her throat, no matter how hard she tried. No, that was impossible – she’d gotten her fire back! Trill was sure of it, but she didn’t remember running out in the first place …

Chirr-See struggled. Trill leapt forwards to grab a vine in her claws and heaved with all her might. “Fly!” he bellowed at her. “You have to fly! Flee!”

“No!” Trill snapped. She had already left Chirr-See behind once, she couldn’t do it again … wait, again? There was no time to ponder that strange thought, or memory; the wingless ones covered her with shiny-rock vines, dragging her down, and she couldn’t breathe fire, why couldn’t she breathe fire?!

That couldn’t be … she had her fire again, thanks to … the wingless ones dragged her away. Trill struggled. How had these awful creatures even found them? They’d been followed, her and … and … where was her friend? “Chirr-See!” Trill roared desperately. “Where are you? It’s me, Trill! Help me!”

A new sound came, distant and indistinct. It felt familiar. Click-Grunt it seemed to call, over and over. Trill wanted to try and get to this strange voice. She reared up and slammed her paws against the shiny-rock. If she could break through a cave-in, she could break through this … It gave way and she tumbled forwards, writhing as she plunged down, down, down …

Trill flinched and gasped, eyes flying open. She scrambled to her paws, wings unfurling. As her head swung back and forth, she saw rocks, plants, the night sky … and a wingless one. Yet she knew that this one was no threat, it was just Click-Grunt. As her wakefulness returned, so did her memories.

Trill looked down at the bank, and up at the drooping leaves, and sighed. For a moment she longed to dream of Chirr-See being with her again, safe and alive and whole. Click-Grunt crept closer to her, warbling in concern.

She didn’t want to worry him, so Trill crooned to let him know she was fine.

Click-Grunt stroked her scales and tied his shell to her spines, then heaved himself up onto her shoulders. Dawn was breaking, and birds were flocking to a shoal of fish. She dived at the water, ignoring Click-Grunt’s squawking protests, and snatched the prey up, rumbling in satisfaction as she ate.

As far as Eleyna knew, nothing but ocean stretched between the last island they had rested on, and Madines. She could only pray that Acora was rested enough to make the journey. They could reach the island so long as they stayed on course, but Acora had a habit of taking detours in order to feed.

Her rest had been disturbed by Acora’s nightmare. “You must be the strangest dragon in the archipelago, making friends with a human. I’m glad I met you and not a huge, vicious beast who wanted to eat me,” she grinned.

When Madines appeared, Eleyna let out a relieved cheer. They’d come in from the north; there were no settlements on that side, so Acora wouldn’t be seen. She braced herself as the dragon dived down, landing near the peak.

Eleyna dismounted gingerly; her footing would be precarious up here. The pirate town was on the southeastern side of the island, out of view of people coming in from the rest of the archipelago. She picked her way towards it, with Acora trailing behind. From this lofty roost she had an excellent view of the sprawl of slapdash hovels, taverns and brothels that made up Puerto Escondido.

There was no sign of any Imperial frigates or the Ascalon, she noted with much relief. The river was swallowed up in the forest that lay behind the town. “The source has to be up here somewhere … I just need to follow it down instead of up.” Eleyna began to make her way towards the forest, only to realise that if she lost her footing, it could mean stumbling to her death.

Acora paused to drink from a stream when Eleyna clambered over to him. She pointed down towards the forest and hauled herself onto his neck. He craned his head around to peer at her, spreading his wings as if to launch, but Eleyna shook her head and pointed firmly down at the forest once more.

To her relief, he got the hint and climbed headfirst down the mountainside. Eleyna hoped nobody was looking up at the slopes, because the pair of them didn’t exactly blend in. Acora crouched low to the ground as if trying to hide, even though his wings kept fluttering and twitching to balance him.

The streams and tributaries merged in a series of white, thunderous rapids. Eleyna was pleased; they were on the right track. Yet no sooner had she dealt with one obstacle than another crossed her mind; what if Acora couldn’t fit amongst the trees? He’ll just have to wait on the outskirts then.

The ground was more level in the forest; Eleyna wouldn’t need to ride him. She could follow the river to this shaman and walk back to him upstream.

Upon reaching the forest’s edge, Acora squeezed past copperwood trunks. At first the trees were sparse enough for him to fit, but soon they grew too close to the bank. “Ouch! Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Eleyna snapped, when a drooping branch got caught in her hair. “You can’t fit! Acora, let me down.”

She kicked her heels against his scales until Acora let her climb off. Eleyna untied her rucksack from his makeshift harness and slung it on. “Just wait here for me, okay,” she insisted, gesturing stay as clearly as she could. He protested, pawing at the air between them as if to say “come back”. “Look, I won’t be long.”I think. “I need to do this. Please, just wait here. Stay.”

With that, Eleyna turned her back and set off along the riverbank. She heard him roaring, branches cracking as he attempted to force his way through the trees. I hope he doesn’t set the forest alight to get them out of the way.

Eleyna walked for what felt like ages. Birds called, water gurgled, and sunlight dappled the ground. It felt good to stretch her legs. She hoped she’d come across something interesting. At this rate she’d walk all the way to Escondido. “I guess I could resupply there,” Eleyna mused. “Hang on … ”

A little further ahead were footprints. They were larger than hers, and stopped at the base of a copperwood tree. A hooded figure sat in the lower branches, stripping bark and tossing it into a basket on his back.

She peered at the stranger. He was engrossed in his work, tearing away a handful of fragrant bark and tossing it into a large wicker basket. Tear and toss, tear and toss. Eleyna didn’t think much of his aim; there were strips of curled up bark all over the ground below. She could easily get past him.

Yes, but then what? Her own footprints were visible as well; he’d see them when he came down, and maybe follow her. Eleyna began to regret not walking in the river to cover her tracks, even if it did mean getting wet shoes.

He was eerily silent, not even humming or whistling to himself. Before she could decide whether to sneak past him, the man climbed down, using vines wrapped around the trunk in place of a ladder or ropes. Then he reached the ground and went downstream, walking with a peculiar gait, stiff-legged and limping. Eleyna followed after him, mindful now of where she was stepping.

The man came to yet another tree, and began to clamber up the vines on that trunk. Eleyna frowned; he already had a basket full of bark. Then she craned her head back, shielding her eyes. He was hauling himself up to a platform. Her curiosity piqued, Eleyna climbed after him and discovered …

A shack, festooned with vines from which dangled scraps of fabric, beads, feathers, and even skulls, that fluttered and rattled in the wind. A curtain of beads hung in place of a door, and an overpowering scent of incense and woodsmoke filled the air. Eleyna coughed before she could stifle it, but the man didn’t look at her. He kept stuffing a large crate with even more bark.

“Hello?” Eleyna stepped forwards. “I don’t mean to intrude, I” – he turned and she yelped, flinching. The man’s eyes were white and clouded, skin covered by a grey crust so thick she couldn’t tell what colour it used to be. His chest remained still; she realised with a jolt of horror that he wasn’t breathing.

Eleyna slowly backed away from him … or rather it. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from those unnerving blank eyes. The curtain of beads was swept aside by a dark-skinned woman with long, narrow dreadlocks and eyes ringed with tattoos. “Who dares disturb the Shaman of the Bandye?”

Click-Grunt had walked away. Unable to follow him, not that he wanted her to, Trill laid down at the river’s edge to wait. It was nice to rest her wings, but she hadn’t liked waiting for Click-Grunt before, and she didn’t like it now.

I wish Chirr-See was here. That dream felt so real … as if he’d never been gone. Her shoulders hunched, claws digging into the earth. It’s all my fault …

Part of her wished she’d never left the nesting place. I wonder what my sire and dam are doing. They’ll have a new hatchling by now, she realised. Trill had a little brother or sister whom she might never meet. Is it a drake or a drakaina? What’s their name? Have my parents told them about me?

Surely they must have – even if they thought she’d died, and were now raising a new hatchling, who wouldn’t fly off on a pointless search for a Special Thing. I could find my way home from here … then I’d see my parents again, and meet my new baby brother or sister … Trill rose to her feet. It was a long way, but she’d made it to this island, she could make it to another …

She stopped herself. I can’t leave. Click-Grunt wanted me to stay here. Trill couldn’t bring herself to abandon him the way she’d abandoned Chirr-See. With a sigh, Trill briefly drank from the river, and settled to the ground again.

Eleyna took a step backwards, and another. “Th-that’s a … a … aah!” She stepped on empty air and shrieked, fighting for balance; she’d nearly fallen through the hole. “That’s a rock-head.” They weren’t supposed to be real!

“Petramort,” the shaman corrected. “His name is Sam. Don’t worry, it’s only a girl,” she cooed at the creature, which didn’t move or even make a noise.

She didn’t dare take her eyes off the petramort, but kept her eyes diverted from its eerie, blank stare. It felt like the creature was staring at her, though it shouldn’t have been able to see. “How … what did … can you please make it turn around?” she asked, a bit hysterically. “It’s creeping me out!”

“Turn around, Sam.” The petramort moved in its stiff, shuffling gait to face the other direction. “Happy now?” she asked impatiently. Eleyna looked at her properly; a native woman around her Aunt Cat’s age, with hair in narrow dreadlocks that fell past her shoulders, tattoos on her face and bare arms. The shaman, with pursed lips, glanced Eleyna up and down in turn.

Before Eleyna spoke, she remarked, “Let me guess. You want a love potion.”

“If a girl your age seeks me out, that’s almost always what she wants. Essence of rose quartz to drive a boy mad with lust,” the shaman smirked. “Or sometimes, her heart has been spurned by him, and she asks for topaz to make him fear her retribution. So? Which one will it be for you, I wonder?”

Eleyna hadn’t given a thought to boys or lovers for ages. “You have crystals?” she asked, trying not to sound too eager. “Where do you get them from?”After all, if these crystals had anything to do with her treasure …

“From many places. You know, the living souls that find their way here often give offerings of wealth, but if you aren’t going to, then I suggest you return home. I’m a busy woman; too busy to indulge your curiosity,” she declared.

Busy doing what? Eleyna was tempted to ask, but resisted. “You mean payment? I can do that,” she replied, taking off her rucksack. “I’m sure I have some left over … ” Eleyna rummaged in the bag until she found them, and offered the shaman a few sueltos. “How about one question for each coin?”

“I do not sell questions, little girl. I sell amulets that ward against evil, potions that mess with the mind, charms that can postpone death. Will you take a chance and buy from me, or are you finally going to leave?”

Her tone reminded Eleyna of Aunt Cat’s impatience with dithering customers. “If I buy something, will you answer my questions?” she pressed.

With a slight eye roll, the shaman replied, “So be it. Come, choose what you wish to obtain.” She held back the beads. Eleyna stepped forwards and entered the shack, holding her rucksack against her chest. There were lanterns hung from the ceiling, jars of pickled things and herbs, barrels full of crystals – or so she assumed – and even a few snakes coiled in the rafters.

“These are the cheapest items I have,” the shaman revealed, gesturing to a stand with bottles on shelves and pendants on hooks. Eleyna peered at them. One pendant caught her eye; it looked like a smooth black teardrop. “Ah, that amulet is made of obsidian, and wards against malevolent auras,” the shaman explained. She decided to buy the amulet. “It’s a pleasure to serve you, miss.”

“My name’s Eleyna. Um, what’s your name?” she inquired, to be polite.

“Brigitte, Humble Servant of the Lespri.”

“Er, okay. So … that petramort. Did … you kill it? I mean, who it used to be?”

Brigitte stiffened, lips a thin line, and glared at her. “He died of sickness, if you must know, so I called upon the lespri to preserve him in stone.”

Eleyna bit her lip. “Why? Were you and Sam … close, when he was alive?”

Brigitte’s eyes narrowed. “That is not for you to know. Do not ask me again.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to … ” Eleyna trailed off. Though curious about the way one made a petramort, she hadn’t forgotten her original reason for coming here. If she wanted to get any closer to finding that treasure, she would have to trust Brigitte with the truth; just not the whole truth. At least at first.

“I found a message that told me to go upriver and find a shaman. I think it was talking about you. Does the name Nicole Skytte mean anything to you?”

Brigitte peered at Eleyna more closely, until her lips curled into a knowing smile. “She told me you might come. You’re her daughter, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Eleyna gasped, “yeah, I am. You knew my mum?” she asked, taking a step forward. “This is perfect. It’s so good to finally talk to someone who – ”

“Years ago, your mother came with an amethyst locket and told me, ‘if someone claiming to be my child comes to you with this necklace, and knows my name, tell them what they want to know’. So, where’s the locket?”

Despite resolving to wait, Trill was tempted to leave yet again, this time by her stomach. At first she drank water from the stream, then tried to ignore it, clawing at the dirt to ease the clawing in her belly. It was no good.

At last she gave in, and went to hunt. Click-Grunt would probably never realise she’d left. She scoured the waters behind this new island for prey; she didn’t dare go near the nest of wingless ones sprawled on the shore.

Trill went quite far from land before coming across some fish. She dived and snatched up pawfuls of them to gorge on. Distracted by the prey, she failed to notice a certain large floating-nest that was creeping southwards nearby.

The Ascalon saw the dragon, but kept to their course so as not to spook it. Only when it flew back to the island did they turn the ship to follow. Despite their impatience, there was no rush; they were dealing with a skittish quarry, and if it saw or heard them coming it would flee, possibly with its rider.

“We aren’t putting in at the town, then, I take it?” Rowles assumed.

Lambton replied, “Only as a last resort. If we follow the dragon we’ll find their camp, and we can ambush the rider. She’s not with the beast, it looks like.”

Ahead of them, Trill returned to the same spot. Click-Grunt hadn’t returned. With an impatient snort, she lay facing downstream to wait for her friend. She had been flying a long time, so perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to have a nap …

Lambton’s crew sailed as close as they could, and lowered boats into the water. They rowed towards the craggy shore, mindful of rocks they could run aground on. The rowboats were dragged up onto pebbles so as to not be swept away, and the men clambered up a cliff to more level ground.

Their lookout had glimpsed the dragon landing at the forest’s edge. The hunters walked parallel to the tree line in search of any clues. It wasn’t long before they came to a river that flowed past the copper-woods, several of which bore dangling, snapped off branches. “No prizes for guessing which way the beast went,” Lambton deadpanned. “Follow the river, men.”

Further along, an oblivious and bored Trill dozed in the shade … until the breeze shifted, wafting a familiar and loathsome scent to her nostrils. She looked over her shoulder; they hid, but she’d seen them! The wingless ones! Panicked, she scrambled up and leapt into the air. In her haste, Trill forgot why she’d been waiting and who for – she just wanted to get away.

“Where is the locket?” Brigitte inquired. Eleyna winced. “You do have it? A gold locket, set with an amethyst, and the words ‘For My Treasure’ inside?”

“To My Treasure,” she corrected. Why did she need proof? The shaman knew her mother, and she looked like Nicole. Aunt Cat had told her so, and Eleyna was sure … mostly … that she hadn’t lied about that much, at least. “I know her name, and what her ship is called. The, um – the Corazon de Piedra, that’s it.”

Brigitte raised an eyebrow. “Anyone could have learned those names. Or stolen the locket, perhaps … did you? I won’t tell; your secret is safe with me.”

“I didn’t steal it!”

“Did someone else? If you had it with you, you’d have shown me by now.”

Eleyna’s fists clenched. “Fine. If you must know … I pawned it. But I needed the money! I’d already worked out the clue. I went to Ocaranes, found a bunch of topaz and a carved message, recalled an extra verse in a sea shanty my mum made up and figured out I had to find the shaman on the Bandye, which is you, so just tell me where the damn treasure is!”

She glared, chest heaving. As her temper cooled she muttered, “please … ”

“How long have you been seeking this treasure?”

“A year, I think. I never … ” Eleyna swallowed. “I thought my mum was dead, growing up. Then my aunt told me … ” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I don’t know why I’m even saying any of this. You don’t even believe I am who I say I am. Just because I didn’t keep that stupid locket with me.”

In reply, the shaman pulled out a chair. “You say it because for the first time in a while, you think someone will listen,” she answered, gesturing to the other chair. “I’m listening. Tell me about your journey, Eleyna.”

Brigitte’s voice was so calm and inviting that Eleyna found herself sitting down. “Um, so I guess it all started a year ago in San Nicolas, where I grew up,” she began. “One night, my Aunt Cat told me to pack my things, that we had to leave. She sold healing crystals too, but they were stolen, and I guess the Guard had found out. They were waiting and they chased us.

“We were hiding in an alley, and she said … she told me my mum hadn’t died, that she might be alive, and I should go to sea to find her ship. Then she went to lure the guards away … I haven’t seen her since.” Eleyna sniffed. “I stowed away on a ship at the dock, and it was a pirate ship.

“I got the captain to keep me around as a cabin girl. Learned to sail. He taught me how to use a sword. I knew the date on my locket was wrong, and then I realised it wasn’t a date, it was coordinates. I tried to get the captain to go to Ocaranes, but he wouldn’t, because it’s just an old mine.”

“Ah. So, did you wear him down in the end?” Brigitte inquired. She flinched.

“No, I … we were on a raid, there was an Imperial ship … it sank the Tenebra. The captain made them think I was a stowaway so they wouldn’t arrest me. He saved my life. Him and this other pirate, Marcus. I wanted to save the crew. I tried, but I was too late. They were … I saw them being … ”

The shaman proffered a handkerchief. Eleyna took it and dabbed her eyes. “Thanks. Sorry. I shouldn’t be getting so overdramatic about it.”

“Child, I’ve known girls to come here wailing about how the man of their dreams has spurned them and they’ll never love again. At least you have a reason to shed tears; so much loss, faced by one so young. And then?”

“I stole a dinghy called Acorazaria. You know, the warding song? Not that it did me much good,” Eleyna grimaced. “I shipwrecked on this deserted island. I’d been there before, the crew used to hove the ship down there. I tried to get the dinghy to shore so that I could patch it up, but it floated further out.

“So I tried to make a smoke signal. Except … it turned out I wasn’t alone.”

“No? Who else was there?”

“Uh, it wasn’t really a who, more like a what … ” Eleyna bit her lip. “I swear I’m not lying, but you might not believe me … there was a dragon there.”

“A black one?” Brigitte wondered. Eleyna stared at her. Chuckling, she nodded at the girl’s hip. “I wondered if that was a scale on your shorts.” Eleyna picked off the scale, and dropped it into her palm. “Fascinating,” she purred, turning it over. “I rarely see such things. It didn’t eat you, then.”

“He was hiding. He’s scared of humans,” replied Eleyna. Brigitte raised an eyebrow. “Well, apart from me. That’s how I got to Ocaranes, and here.”

“Riding a dragon? How brave,” remarked Brigitte. It was hard to tell if she was being sarcastic. “Please don’t stop. How did you tame this dragon?”

Eleyna blushed. “I ran away at first. I was terrified. Kept thinking he wasgonna come and try to eat me. That night, I got rescued – kind of – by some dragon hunters. They seemed nice, but then I heard them saying they were gonna hand me over to the Imperials, because of the stolen dinghy.

“I had to get away, but there was no way off the ship except … for the dragon. I snuck down to the hold – nicked one of the hunter’s helmets and coat as a disguise. His name was Patrick. I let the dragon out. Their ship opens at the stern, like a drawbridge. I was trying to open it so we could escape, but they came with crossbows. Acora panicked and tried to fend them off. Patrick got smacked into the bulkhead by his tail, and he didn’t have his helmet on … I saw the blood, but I didn’t realise he – he’d died.” Eleyna sniffed again and blew her nose on the hanky. “I never meant to get him killed. I liked Patrick.”

Brigitte told her, “It wasn’t your fault. The dragon killed him.”

“Because I let him out.” Eleyna took a deep breath. “This treasure has to be out there somewhere. If it’s not, everything I’ve done … will be for nothing.”

There was a long silence.

After a while, Brigitte spoke. “Go and climb back down to the base of the tree, and look at the other side of the trunk.”

Eleyna blinked. “You believe me?” she asked, “that I’m Nicole’s daughter?”

“Oh, you could be anyone,” Brigitte said dismissively, “but after what you’ve done to get this far? That kind of dedication should be rewarded. Go down.”

She hurried out of the treehouse and down through the gap in the platform, all the way to the forest floor, then walked around the trunk to the other side. There, etched into the bark, was a … poem? Confused, she began to read through it, and quickly realised it wasn’t merely a poem, but a riddle.

A place tempting but dangerous, with a guardian who … she was supposed to show her missing locket to. That was the least of her worries. How was she meant to figure out what this place was called, or where exactly it was?

Eleyna doubted the shaman would tell her, but she couldn’t resist asking. “Nice poem. What does it mean?” she inquired, feigning idle curiosity. Brigitte wasn’t fooled of course, and merely raised an eyebrow. “Can’t blame me for trying,” she muttered. “You must’ve solved the riddle.”

“What sort of quest would it be if I gave you the answer?” Brigitte chuckled.

She vaguely remembered tales of a dangerous island, but the name didn’t come to mind. Her shoulders hunched one minute and slumped the next as she paced. Twice now, she thought the treasure was within her grasp, and twice she’d been let down. It was hard to summon enthusiasm a third time.

“Not what you expected, hm?” inquired Brigitte. She’d forgotten the shaman was there. “Look on the bright side; you’re a step closer to the treasure.”

“I guess. I thought the treasure was on Ocaranes, but it wasn’t. Then I hoped you would know where it is, but you don’t. For all I know, this clue is leading to an island with another clue. Maybe there’s no treasure. If there is and my mum wants me to find it, she’d make it easier … wouldn’t she?”

“Oh, child,” Brigitte shook her head, an amused smile on her lips. “Do you think you’re the first to go on this quest? That riddle was etched into this tree when it was young. You found a message carved in stone. Someone long ago went to a lot of effort; too much, I believe, for the sake of a prank.”

Before now, Eleyna had assumed the treasure was her mother’s own, but it seemed her mother had found it too. Then passed the locket, the first clue, to her, so one day she’d figure it out and be the next person to seek the treasure. Not just the locket, either; but that other, invented verse of the warding song. A way of telling her which river the shaman lived alongside.

“I guess she did make it easier,” Eleyna murmured. She looked at Brigitte. “The riddle says I need that locket, but I can’t go back for it now. I don’t suppose you have one like it?” she wondered … then sighed. “Of course not.”I’ll have to manage. Whoever this guardian is, I bet they’ve never seen a –

“Acora,” she gasped. “Oh, gosh, I forgot about him. I should get back, he’ll wonder where I’ve gone. I don’t want him to come looking for me, he might break something. Goodbye. Oh, and thank you for your help,” she said gratefully.

Brigitte smiled warmly. “You’re welcome. I hope we’ll meet again, Eleyna; I would like to see this dragon of yours. Farewell, and good luck with your quest.” Eleyna slung her rucksack over her shoulders, then she climbed down to the ground again and walked away a little, enough to turn and look back up at the treehouse. Brigitte stood on the edge of the platform.

Eleyna waved in farewell, and set off upstream. I wonder what Acora’s been up to, she thought idly. At least he’ll be well rested for the next flight.

As she drew closer to where she’d left Acora, Eleyna’s pace slowed. Something was wrong … he should have been visible from here. The trees did not grow that close together, and his dark hide would stand out.

Skin crawling, she moved behind a tree and peeked out. Perhaps Acora had gone fishing, or to relieve himself, but there was a sense of menace in the air. Eleyna felt the hairs on the back of her neck standing up, like she was being watched. She looked around the trunk again and gasped.

Someone stared right at her. Eleyna flattened herself against the trunk, hardly daring to breathe. Her ears strained for the sound of footsteps or voices. Finally she couldn’t stand it anymore, and risked another peek. Her eyes locked with those of a man, one of the Ascalon’s dragon hunters.

There was no point hiding; they’d seen her. She shrugged off the rucksack and ran, as the noise of pursuit rose up. “Acora!” she yelled with what breath she could spare, “Acora, help me!” Where was he? What if the hunters had already captured him, they had clearly been waiting in ambush for her …

She tried to get out of the forest, so that if Acora had gotten away he’d see her … as she neared the treeline, a heavy weight sent her careening to the ground. Eleyna gasped, winded, and tried to struggle to her feet.

Instead she was hauled up off the ground, her wrists held behind her. “Get off me!” She kicked the man’s legs, but he was wearing shin-guards, and it hurt her far more than it did him. Eleyna twisted to see her assailant’s face. It was George. He didn’t look down at her, but rather at the other hunters catching up with them. One man carried her rucksack over his shoulder.

“You caught her. Good work, Mr Liddan,” Lambton nodded approvingly.

“Thank you, Captain.” He sounded smug. Eleyna wanted to spit in his face.

Officer Rowles clamped cold iron manacles around her wrists. “You are under arrest, charged with two counts of theft, two counts of destruction of property, and the manslaughter of Patrick Erland. However, the law guarantees you the right to a fair trial,” he stated.

They frogmarched her back to their ship. When they were in the open, a familiar roar set her heart racing. Everyone looked up at the dragon, and Eleyna gasped in relief. Acora circled overhead, and the hunters fired arrows at him. He dodged – flinched, really – and roared at them.

Why didn’t he attack? Runt or not, he could crush them. Or burn them to a crisp. As if realising it himself, Acora breathed fire – over the hunters’ heads, who closed ranks around Eleyna and Rowles. The flames didn’t even touch them. He hovered, looking at her. She prayed to the Rogue that he’d land.

Instead he twisted away with a mournful roar, fleeing up to the peak. Eleyna stared after him in dismay. The hunters were talking, but she barely paid attention. Rowles took her arm and tugged. She stumbled. Acora left. He left me. She’d begun to believe he wouldn’t abandon her … and now he had.

Down the rugged cliffs, into the rowboat, an awkward climb up the ladder to the deck. Eleyna felt numb. George wrapped his fingers round her arm, pressing so tight she winced, and dragged her below. They went to the hold; the stench of bilgewater seeped up through the planks. George unlocked the narrow door of the brig, and shoved Eleyna into the cramped, dark space.

She staggered and looked back at him. “Welcome aboard,” he sneered, slamming the door shut. In pitch blackness, she heard a key scrape in the lock. Eleyna slid down the bulkhead, drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. “Judge acquit me,” she whispered. “Please.”

Trill shuddered. She’d panicked, fled without thought for her companion. Then she remembered and went back, but Click-Grunt had already been caught. Trill wanted to rescue him but the other wingless ones had been too close. She would have hurt her friend, too.

She’d retreated, just as when Chirr-See was captured. Trill keened. Click-Grunt must have felt betrayed when she flew away. Once again she’d abandoned a friend because she was too scared to help him. She watched from afar as Click-Grunt was dragged back to the large floating-nest.

Soon it would float away, and she would never see Click-Grunt again. She would be alone and friendless once more … no. Trill stood. The floating-nest was leaving, turning its large soft leaves towards the wind. She waited until it was facing away from her, then spread her wings and launched herself into the air. She’d follow it, and maybe, just maybe, rescue her friend after all.

Trill didn’t know if she could … but she had to try. Click-Grunt had freed her from those wingless ones before. It was about time she returned the favour.