Dragonoak (34 page)

The dragon had been hunted down and murdered, and now these
people wanted to skin it. To hack away at its scales and flesh, and
all so that they could make weapons from its bones. Weapons to kill
more of its kind. It wasn't fair. The dragon had been
young
; Felheim probably
hadn't even had the chance to corrupt it, not fully.

It'd
been scared, it'd been confused, and now someone was standing over
it, saying, “Wanna do the honours? You're the only one with a
dragon-bone blade between us.”

My skull
throbbed with anger on the dragon's behalf, and I splayed a hand
against my chest, knowing too well how it felt to have blades
driven in between my ribs. My shoulders shook and my breath came
too loudly, and it was hot, hotter than any jungle. Without making
a sound or moving into sight, Akela waved a hand, stealing my
attention for a brief moment.

She
pointed to her eyes, fingers flicking up to mirror the light
bleeding from my own.

I was
shaking, but my powers weren't out of my control. They were going
exactly where they were needed, before the soldier could swing
their blade and take away any pieces.

Inside,
the dragon was as damaged as its rotting scales suggested. Its
organs had atrophied within its chest, but that wasn't enough to
hinder me. I reformed the creature from the inside, hearts growing,
filling with blood, but what was within its head gave me pause. I
could restore almost everything, its thoughts and its vision, but
too much of its mind had decayed. There were gaps I couldn't patch
over, seams I couldn't pull back together, and so I did what came
naturally to me.

I let my
thoughts flow into it. I let it know that I ached for what had
happened to it and why. What I was flooded the dragon's mind,
allowing everything to weave its way back together.

With a
rumble, the dragon began to move.

Akela
was staring at me in horror, not wanting to believe her ears.
Neither of us had watched it unfold, but the low, echoing rumble
painted a clear enough picture of had happened.

“What the—it's
moving
!” a soldier said, swearing
under their breath.

“Shit
. Your blade, give me your
blade!”

“You
really think you can kill a dragon? There's no time for that,
just...”

The soldiers weren't going to notice us now. I allowed myself
to glance around the tree, watching as the dragon swung out its
–
his
– paw,
claws tearing a tree trunk straight through. With a swing of his
fist, he knocked the tree clean out of the ground, sending it
flying after the fleeing soldiers.

Wings
spread out, the dragon pressed himself close to the ground, opening
his mouth and drawing in a deep breath he didn't need. With a
whine, he tried to exhale something other than air, but nothing
rushed past his fangs. Perhaps I hadn't been able to fix
everything, not straight away. He couldn't spit out so much as a
spark, and snarling in frustration, the dragon roared between the
trees, ensuring the soldiers didn't dare to turn back.

With the forest free of fire and no one to give chase, Akela
took my arm and charged off, heading away from the clearing, where
the dragon couldn't follow. I stumbled after her for a handful of
steps and tore my arm free, racing back the way we'd come as she
bellowed, “Northwood!
Northwood
!” after me.

I didn't
stop, not until I came to the last line of trees between me and the
clearing.

The
dragon was waiting for me, body low to the ground, nostrils flaring
as he tried to remember the taste of fire.

CHAPTER XIII

The
dragon wasn't dead, but he wasn't alive, either.

He was
caught between two opposing forces, and when he moved, he did so of
his own will. It wasn't like the time I'd compelled corpses to
move; whatever I'd done to the dragon, whatever I'd pushed into
him, didn't counter the fact that he was still himself, still a
dragon.

I'd
never known fear to silence Akela before, but she'd stopped
shouting at me, stopped urging me to back away and disappear into
the forest. She stood behind me, either unwilling or unable to
leave me facing a dragon alone, and I held out a hand as the dragon
stepped closer. No matter how young he was, he could've finished me
off in a few bites, and he was skittish, liable to snap his jaws at
me.

Fear had
yet to leave him, and his death probably felt as though it had
occurred minutes ago. The spear was still embedded between his
ribs, and he let out a low, rumbled warning when I took a single
step forward.

“It's
alright,” I whispered, holding both hands in front of me. “I'm just
going to...”

The
dragon growled louder and louder, claws sinking into the dirt and
cracking the ground open, but I kept my eyes on his as I moved
closer, hoping he understood that I only wanted to help. His whole
body tensed as I placed a hand against his side, inches above the
wound, wings fanning out as I wrapped my fingers around the
spear.

The
handle was caked in dark, dried orange blood, and I gripped it
tight, not giving the dragon time to get used to the idea of me
removing it. I wrenched it free, taking the dragon's pain along
with it, but he still roared out, slamming a paw against the
ground. It wasn't until I dropped the spear into the dirt and held
my hands out in front of me that he stopped lashing out with his
tail.

Falling
flat against the ground, the dragon grumbled more than he
growled.

“See?
That's much better,” I said, carefully stepping back in front of
him. “We're not going to hurt you. Are we, Akela?”

“Ah...”
was all she managed.

The
dragon watched me with giant, glassy eyes, and I tentatively placed
a hand on the end of his snout. His eyes widened and his nostrils
flared, and my heart hammered in my chest as his lips curled back,
fangs sliding apart. I didn't move my hand, and the dragon's long
tongue lolled out of his mouth, tasting the air and wrapping around
my wrist.

I
laughed shakily, sound rattling around my chest, and the dragon
tilted his head to the side, tongue slipping back into his
mouth.

“It's
nice to meet you too,” I said, crouching in front of him. “I'm
Rowan. Do you have a name?”

The
dragon tilted his head to the other side, nose
twitching.

“Would
you like one?” I asked, and the dragon swung his tail across the
clearing, letting out a growl of a purr. I'd named plenty of sheep
but never a dragon, and my eyes darted around the clearing. “Let's
see... Oak? What do you think of Oak?”

The
dragon shot to his feet, knocked me back, and beat his tail against
the floor. He looked as delighted as a half-dead,
permanently-decaying creature could.

“Oak it
is,” I said, getting to my feet with the help of Akela.

She'd
finally torn herself off the spot, but her unblinking eyes remained
fixed on Oak as he stretched out. I grinned and Akela looked at me
as though I was mad, which I took to be a personal
achievement.

“Are you
going to be alright? Do you know where the other dragons are?” I
asked, and Oak blinked. “Akela and I are going to Orinhal, but you
should head for Kyrindval. They'll look after you
there.”

Strangely, those few words seemed to mean something to Oak.
He straightened out, rocked back on his hind legs and stared up at
the sky, growling thoughtfully. Slamming back against the ground,
he stretched his wings out, placed his head at my feet, and stared
up at me expectantly.

“Um. Do
you want us to... ?”

Oak's
tail swished to and fro, and I didn't allow myself to put any more
thought into it. Moving around to his side, I carefully placed a
foot against his elbow and climbed onto his back. I hooked my
fingertips around the more pronounced scales protruding from his
back, settling just beneath the base of his neck, and he didn't
shake me off; I'd done the right thing.

“Northwood, please tell me I am hitting my head and you are
not really sitting on a dragon in this very moment,” Akela said,
and I had no answer for her. I could only beckon her closer, heart
in my throat, terrified but trusting. “No, no, this sort of
journey, it is not what I am cut out for.”

Oak
lifted his head and I clung on tighter, though I didn't slide back.
He inched towards Akela, knocking his nose against her chest, and
she looked too startled to fall back.

“We
won't need to find horses at this rate, right?” I said, giddy with
how ridiculous it all was. “We'll be at Orinhal in no
time.”

“Northwood, I am certain that even Tizo is coming up with a
plan better than this one,” Akela said warily, staring down at Oak
when he didn't back off. With a look that said she expected to
regret it, Akela lifted her hands and placed them on the sides of
Oak's head. His tail twitched but he didn't bare his fangs at her.
Humming, Akela tilted her head this way and that, catching her
reflection in Oak's eyes. “... ah, what is coming over me? This
dragon, he is an overgrown puppy, yes? I am looking at this face
and I am thinking, perhaps I am jumping to conclusions.”

Back to
herself, Akela patted Oak on the snout and marched around to his
side, chest pushed out. I held out a hand and she climbed onto
Oak's back behind me saying, “Sorry, sorry, my scaly friend, I am
not meaning to scuff you with my boots,” as she got
comfortable.

“Once we
take off,” I whispered,” You can cling to me if you want. I won't
tell anyone.”

Akela
laughed heartily, but now that she was on his back, Oak wasn't
wasting any time. Wings stretched out, he set off at a run, kicking
off the ground with his hind legs. He flung himself in the air,
wings beating hard to push him higher, and for a second, I was
convinced that he'd crash back into the forest.

Huffing,
Oak pushed through the strain of take-off, seeming to glide higher
and higher. My stomach twisted and sunk within me, all of my organs
scrambling together as the ground rushed away, and Akela wrapped
both arms around my waist, swearing in Agadian, and then in
Mesomium, for good measure. I laughed the lump out of my throat,
catching my breath, air cooler and cooler around us, and the forest
and the wall and Benkor became impossibly small, blurs on a
landscape of endless green.

Oak
continued his steady ascent until we were closer to the clouds than
the ground, not wanting to risk being dragged back down for a
second time. The sight of dragons overhead was far from uncommon in
Kastelir, and had anyone craned their neck back to stare at the
dark shape cutting across the clouds, they never would've seen
anyone on Oak's back.

His
wings joined his body where his shoulder blades were, just above my
knees, and I wrapped my hands around the base of one, leaning over
the side to see how far we'd come. The ground rushed by as though a
map had been pulled from beneath us, and I couldn't remember ever
enjoying fear so much. Akela's grasp on my waist loosened, but she
kept one hand at my hip, and her startled curses turned to
cheers.

Even on
Oak's back, it wasn't a short journey. We were in the sky for so
long that I was sure I'd forget how the ground felt beneath my
feet, and eventually, my heart settled into a steady rhythm. Hours
in and I thought Akela might fall asleep against my back. Oak had a
vague idea of where he was headed, in the same way that I did; we
both knew to head north-west, towards the centre of Kastelir, and
when I thought we were drawing close, I looked out for the ravine
cutting through Bosma behind Orinhal.

It was
dark when we arrived. Weeks of travelling had flown by in no more a
dozen hours, and we would've headed straight past Orinhal, if not
for the fires burning within the city, torches lighting the
streets.

They
certainly weren't hiding from the Felheimish.

I held
on tightly to Oak's scales as we descended, giving the city a
wide-berth. The wind tore past us and Akela wrapped both arms
around me, and we landed along the edge of the ravine, almost a
mile from Orinhal. No doubt they'd have people watching the skies
for dragons, and I didn't want to frighten the resistance; more
than that, I didn't want to risk anything happening to Oak
again.

“We are
making it!” Akela declared, light-headed from the journey, and
stumbled when she slipped off Oak's back. He swung out his tail,
catching her, and Akela took an unsteady step forward, saying, “You
are most kind, my Oaky friend. When the others are arriving, we are
laughing. Not even Kouris is making the journey so
quickly!”

I swung
my leg over and jumped off, having more faith in my feet than
Akela's, and stumbled forward as the ground pulled me down. Akela
caught me, chuckled, and set me on my course to Oak's side. Lights
moved in the distance – members of the resistance brandishing
torches as they charged over on horseback – and I pressed my face
between his eyes, closing my own.

“You
can't stay with us, Oak. You know why, don't you?” I said, brushing
my hand along his snout, fingertips grazing the hole in his jaw
that hadn't healed over. “Go to Kyrindval. I think you remember
where it is. The pane will look after you. And if you see my
brother, make sure you give him a scare, alright?”