The Dragons of Noor (31 page)

The she-dragon recognized his fire. It was a thing they shared. Learning to control his inner fire was the gift he’d taken from his dragon shifts. The queen watched him without blinking and waited for him to settle.

“You have many gifts to offer, Miles,” she said. “And you gave the one that matters most inside the heart of the World Tree.”

Miles couldn’t hide his surprise from her. He’d told no one about his transformation in the heart of the tree. It was too personal somehow and would be hard to speak of. But the Damusaun had known about his long struggle with anger. She seemed to know this, too, and it was much more secret. He’d let go of everything to find Kwen’s heart, let go even of himself. And somehow, by doing that, he’d come into his own.

He was just now beginning to understand how the Damusaun had led him away from the fear of his own power to bring him here.

“Do you remember the one I spoke of the day you were blue-palmed?” she asked.

Miles gazed up at the constellations, where Mishtar’s Ship sailed east of Breal’s Moon.

The Dragon Queen brought her face down close enough for Miles to see himself doubly reflected in her eyes. “I see you know the one I mean,” said the Damusaun.
“Essha
, shape-shifter,” she whispered. “You were hiding your powers when we first met on the ship. And it took you time to come into yourself.”

Miles blinked. He was all the stronger for her constant challenges, her harsh discipline, her restraint. Only
now did he see that she was his teacher, that she had been his teacher all along. Now she was leaving him.

The Damusaun raised her voice so all could hear. “Long ago, the dragon’s friend, the Mishtar, took up arms to fight alongside the dragons, but when the war was over, he put away his sword and turned his hand to music.

“Here is the new Mishtar. He joined the Kanameer, the Fire Herd, and the Wind-taken to bridge the worlds for us. But in the days to come, the new Mishtar must bridge the way between men and dragons. He must learn our history and play dragon songs wherever he goes.” She looked down at Miles. “Do you accept this?”

Her question sent a tremor across his skin. He shook, and it was as if the world was shaking. For once he did not try and control it.

The bright moonlight, and the starlight falling from Mishtar’s Ship, fell on the Damusaun’s proud face. It crossed the ground between them, the very edge of it touching the backs of his hands.

“I accept it.”

There was no cloak or crown for the new Mishtar to wear, only this moonlight and the cold and glittering stars above. That was enough.

“Now, Mishtar,” she said. “Your gift.”

Miles took out his ervay and polished the silver flute on his sleeve.

Taunier clicked his fingers. The soft glow above his hand illuminated the broad trunk as the Damusaun asked entry from the World Tree.

“Old Friends Parting” was a simple tune, but the song floated easily from the ervay as the Damusaun climbed the bough. She left too quickly and too soon. As the twin pipes played, they all watched her disappear beyond the shimmering leaves.

They sailed homeward the next day with crates full of Arnun fruit, and folk celebrated in every land when the Wind-taken children arrived home. There was such food and feasting as they had never had before, and the Arnun fruit was by far the sweetest delicacy at every table.

Back on Enness Isle, after Mother had hugged all three of her children for the tenth time and wiped away her happy tears, she got out her mixing bowls, made her special crumb cake, and served it on the green platter Tymm had mended the day Hanna first saw the dragon.

Hanna cut her younger brother a thick slice of cake
and smiled as he stuffed a huge hunk of it in his mouth. Tymm gobbled it up and asked, “May I have another?” His mouth was still so full he sprayed crumbs across the table at Da.

Da swept the crumbs up with the side of his hand and gave a hearty laugh. “Do you hear that, Mother? What do you say to the boy?”

Mother clucked her tongue but took the knife from Hanna and sliced her youngest boy a second piece. And before she knew it, she was handing out seconds to Hanna, Miles, and Taunier, which was not like her at all, but then it was a celebration.

Many shining seeds were gathered as the Arnun fruit was devoured at table after table throughout Noor. The children who’d been called by the Old Magic knew what to do with them. In every land, the Wind-taken returned to the fallen forests, where they planted the Arnun seeds. Under their tender care, new Waytrees sprang up in Othlore Wood, in the forests of Emberlee and Reon, and every land where the children lived.

On Enness Isle, Hanna hiked up Mount Shalem with Taunier and her brothers. She knelt by a fallen Waytree, the shiny white seeds in her palm glistening like pearls. A
green-scented wind blew her hair as she planted them and scooped brown earth on top.

Less than an arm’s length away, wood beetles were chewing patterns in the pine log. The decaying ancients here in Shalem Wood would enrich the soil and nourish Arnun’s seeds. In time, the trees of Enness Isle would grow tall again.

She joined the others on the ridge overlooking the bay. “Da wants us to bide with him through lambing season.”

“It’s only right we do before we go to Othlore,” said Taunier.

Miles placed his hand on Breal’s furry head. “I can stay on until then.”

Hanna was glad they’d both stay on. She wanted to see the lambing season out before sailing to the meer school with them.

The sun came out from behind the clouds. “Look.” Tymm pointed at the morning moon.

Hanna looked out over the water where the moon shown pale white as an Arnun seed. Taunier took her hand. His palms were damp with soil. So were hers, but they linked fingers all the same.

New trees with patterned black and white bark sprang up all over Noor. The trees’ roots were deeper than most Noor folk guessed, deep enough to find the ancient world songs and help Kwen-Arnun bind Noor and Oth together. The saplings were called Kwen-Arnun trees, but as they grew in height and girth, towering in forests across the land, many Noor folk simply called them honey trees, for their fruit was the sweetest in the world.

I
n the beginning when eOwey sang everything into being, Kwen-Arnun, the World Tree, held the world of NoorOth together. Kwen, white-barked and strong, embraced his tree-wife, Arnun, her branches black and shining. Male and female under the NoorOth sun, trunks and branches intertwining, together they were one.

Kwen-Arnun’s roots grew deep as the earth, binding all to all. Then eOwey created dragons with hearts of fire to guard the sacred World Tree. Green taberrell dragons and golden terrows wheeled above Kwen-Arnun night and day and tended the rich soil beneath the giant boughs.

In the second age a great quake shook the world of NoorOth, breaking Kwen-Arnun in two. As the World
Tree fell, NoorOth split into two worlds. As NoorOth loosened into the seen and unseen worlds of Noor and Oth, the rift tore a black hole in the heart of the Old Magic, and a Wild Wind awakened with the breaking of the worlds.

Storms blew over Oth, where Kwen’s tree-wife, Arnun, was shattered on the ground. Her shining black trunk lay in pieces. Tempests swept through Noor, where Kwen fell, his branches twisted, his broken heart turning slowly to stone.

Yet the worlds of Noor and Oth did not completely split apart. For trees of every kind rose up, all descended from Kwen-Arnun. eOwey called them Waytrees and sent more dragons to protect them. As the years passed, the Waytrees grew taller, and their roots were deep enough to bind the broken worlds.

—The Way Between Worlds