clatter over Thoran’s body. The bear punched and struggled and fell down and rolled, but every move only wrapped the
net tighter around him, until he was imprisoned and out of fight. “Hah,” went the sibyl, pleased with her effort. “You never told me Zanna had magicks.”
At that point, I broke cover.
“Enough!” I called, running out of the trees. The sibyl whipped her unicorn round. I braced myself, expecting some form of attack. But a strange kind of motionless moment passed between us. We stalled, like young frogs suspended in their jelly. My eyes were in hers, hers were in mine. Then the world clicked
back and I was running again. But I was not alone. I felt a sudden breeze at the side
of my head and saw Gawain go fluttering
past.
With one of his now familiar
graaarks
the wearling crashed feet first into the man, flapping his wings like a pair of loose robes drying out in the wind. The man staggered and fell onto his back. He had the last known dragon in the world on his chest and the means to kill it still
resting in his hand. I cried out, “Throw the knife aside or I’ll command him to flame
you!”
The unicorn reared.
“Rosa, do nothing!” the man called out. And when she was calm, he lowered his knife and dropped it on the ground.
I ran and snatched it up.
“Save your threats,” the man said, without caring to look at me. “You couldn’t kill me if you tried. And I doubt that a dragon as young as this will have
found his fire, let alone a wish to kill.” His hands came up to the spindly neck.
“No!” I yelled, fearing Gawain was about to be throttled.
But all the man did was run his fingersdown the wearling’s spine.
Gawain gave out a gravelly trill anddragged one foot across the visitor’sheart.
“I know,” the man said tenderly. “I never thought I’d get to see
you
, either.”
I hovered like an idiot, unsure of what to do.
Who are these people?
I said to the
Fain.
Before they could answer, Guineverestepped out of hiding.
The woman on the unicorn gasped, “Look at this.”
Guinevere cast her a puzzled look butaddressed her words to the man on the
ground. “Please, traveller, let the dragon be. We are simple hill folk, we mean you no harm.”
“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “We have no plans to hurt you – or the dragon. We’re here to help you save his life.”
“I heard you talking,” I snapped. “Who are you? Where have you come from?”
The man put a finger into Gawain’s mouth and let the dragon nibble it gently. “We are travellers from what you might call the future, Agawin. It is Agawin, isn’t it?”
“You know me?”
“We feel we do.”
Guinevere gathered up her robe and
knelt beside the man. “Your face… it’s
familiar to me,” she whispered. She traced his cheek with her fingertips. I saw him blink, as if from that contact he had learned a truth about her that even she did
not know herself.
The unicorn whinnied. “Tell them,”said the sibyl.
The man reached out and held a few
strands of Guinevere’s hair. He looked
into her face and his eyes shone violet, filled with all the love it was possible to imagine. “You’re the image of someone dear to me. You don’t know me in the
future and you never will. But if our mission here is successful, you will bring about the birth of a woman called
Elizabeth, who will carry your auma – and
your legend – forward.”
“Legend?” I said.
Guinevere wasn’t listening. “What is your name, traveller?”
“David,” he replied. “And this is… ”
“Rosa,” she cut in quickly.
The moon emerged from behind a thin cloud and the hills grew measurably brighter. For the first time I saw the visitors properly. To my astonishment, I immediately recognised David. I had to look closely at Rosa to be sure, but there was no mistaking the sibyl either. These people, these so-called travellers from our future, had already been in our present. They were the ‘strange characters’ Guinevere had talked about on
our way here.
They were both on the tapestry of
Isenfier.
Part Three
Joseph Henry
He was as tall as Yolen, perhaps athumb’s length more, and walked with asimilar willowy gait. His face, thoughhandsome, was nothing extraordinary. Itradiated kindness and a slight air ofworry. Dark hair flowed almost straight tohis shoulders. He had long and noticeablydelicate hands. Once again I asked the Fain what they knew about him.
Kin
, theyhad said. But kin to whom? The violet in
his eyes had now receded. Did he suffer, I wondered, from the same odd malady afflicting Guinevere? Could he even be related to the red-haired girl? The Fain could not give a definite answer, but were hopeful that David would reveal himself in time.
Is he a bear in human form?
I
pressed.
He is illumined
, they said.
He could be many things, Agawin. Like you, he is commingled to the spirit of a dragon. But not just any dragon…
Tell me,
I insisted
. Tell me what you know.
Hesitation in the Fain was very unusual.
I felt them reading David again.
The
auma we detect in him matches
Gawain’s
…
“Jeans,” David said.
“Huh?” I grunted. He was attending to his horse and not looking at me.
“You were staring, Agawin.” He tapped his left leg.
In truth, I’d been staring at nothing in particular. I was just dazed by the Fain’s
revelation. How could a visitor who had
journeyed from the future be commingled to a dragon barely hatched from its egg?
“Pretty standard clothing where I come from.”
I nodded, though his words meant littleto me. His garments did intrigue me,though, especially the way his ‘jeans’were woven to the shape of his legs. Ipicked at the metal studs around thepockets and the clever little loops his beltpassed through. I noticed Rosa waswearing ‘jeans’ too. And otheradornments. A thin scarf of flax. Charms
at her wrists. A half-robe showing a glimpse of her waist. She wore strange red boots, laced fully to the ankle. A bag with a metal clasp hung at her hip. I had
never seen a woman quite like her before, not even in Taan. “How far have you travelled?”
“That’s difficult to say.” He touched the neck of my robe, testing the fabric between his fingers. He seemed as fascinated with me as I was with him.
Before he spoke again he glanced beyondmy shoulder, as if there might besomething crawling up my back. Puzzled, Ilet my eyes drift sideways, but there wasnothing lurking in the corner of my vision. “It wasn’t our intention to meet you and Guinevere. Your lives, your destinies, arecomplex enough. You are not the one wecame in search of.”
“Who, then?”
His eyes adjusted to the dark, moving in
spirals the way a dragon’s eyes changed, though from where we stood it was easy to see the others. Guinevere, with the wearling settled on her shoulder, was conversing with the sibyl about her boots. Thoran, calm and freed from his net, was sitting alone, grooming, nursing his pride. Crakus, the raven, was still on his branch.
Tightening a saddle strap, David said, “Can you set a fire?”
I shrugged. “Of course.”
“Of course,” he repeated, smiling at his thoughtlessness. “Do it. We’ll camp in the wood. I’ll tell you everything you need to know in there.” He called to the sibyl. “Zan—Rosa, we’re going in.”
She nodded and gave an instruction to the unicorn. Bending one of its delicate
knees, it knelt, allowing Guinevere to climb onto its back. David gripped the horse’s bridle and turned towards the
trees.
“Why are you so uncertain of her
name?”
“That’s also hard to explain,” he said.
“On the world we came from I know her
as Rosa. On Earth, her auma is slightly different. Here she would be Zanna – a
reflection of herself with an altered life. I
think I’ll just stick to calling her Rosa.”
“A reflection?”
“The universe is a strange place, Agawin. There’s a great deal to learn. But you will learn. One day.”
He walked on a little and was two steps ahead before I managed to ask, “And you?
Are you a reflection – of another David?”
He paused and patted the horse’s neck. “I just… travel a lot,” he said, withoutreally saying anything at all.
Like an eager sparrow, I pressed himagain. “How did you come here – fromyour other world?”
This time he turned to face me. A cold
breeze wavered across our path. I shivered and pushed my hands into my robe. My fingers touched the ends of the tornaq. Did David carry such a charm, I wondered?
“If my memories are correct you’re a seer’s boy, Agawin. You must have been taught that certain species, three in total, know the enchantments of time?”
I shook my head, feeling slightly
inadequate. Brunne had been about to instruct me before he was cruelly murdered, and Yolen, no doubt, would have taught me soon. All I could do for now was guess. Three species? One of them had to be dragons. I blurted their name. All the world knew they had extraordinary gifts. Was this, after all, not one of the reasons rogues like Voss sought to steal their fire?
David smiled as if all I had done was to
tell him that dead leaves fall from trees.
“Unicorns are similarly blessed,” he said, “though their willingness to travel depends on their rider. We’re fortunate that Rosa has Terrafonne’s trust.”
I glanced at the sibyl and her unicorn,
Terrafonne. For such a fragile animal it
was bearing two riders on its back with ease. When she asked it to move, it flowed like dust motes falling through sunlight. It wasn’t difficult to imagine it slipping through time. “You said a third creature knows the enchantments?”.
“Yes.” He spoke sweetly to the horse, telling it we would be resting soon. “There is a type of bird, like a small dragon, that monitors ripples or changes in time.”
The tornaq
, said the Fain, becoming
excited.
Instinctively, my fingers closed aroundit. An unwise move, perhaps. David’sgaze had dropped straight to my fidgetinghands. “They’re called firebirds. Theyrarely visit this world. But you’d know
one if you saw one, trust me.” He clicked his tongue and pulled the horse into a walk.
“Wait!”
“Agawin, my horse is tired. And the others are waiting.” He pointed to the unicorn, treading its hooves by the tree line. Guinevere was petting its glistening
mane, clearly wondering what was delaying us. “We’ll talk when we’re settled.”
“There may be wolves lurking.”
“Wolves?”
I told him what I’d heard from Crakus.
I felt his auma wave scanning the trees.
“There are no wolves here. The raven lied
to you.”
Much as I’d expected. Maybe it
wanted
to be dragon food, this bird. “What shall I do with it?” It had not kept to its word and it could not be trusted. I told him of the
terms I’d offered.
He thought a moment, then handed methe horse. He approached the tree slowlyand pulled his knife. Crakus squawkedand huddled back into the shadows. David
reached up and severed the tie.
But as quickly as Crakus tried to fly off, David caught the loose end of twine and wound it swiftly around his fist, reeling the raven in again.
“Murder!” it croaked, flapping like fury. Somewhere in the trees, I thought I heard another bird returning its call.
David tightened his fist, trapping the wrinkled toes against his knuckles. “You
know,” he began with a sigh, “every time I meet a bird like you, there’s always a sibyl nearby controlling it.” He tugged the twine. “Who’s working you, Crakus?”
“Ix was here,” was all it would say. A look of spite glinted in its berry-shaped
eyes.
David nodded slowly. I got the impression he could have squeezed more from the bird if he’d wanted to, but all he said was this: “You struck a deal with my friend. I expect you to keep to it. If you meet the Ix again, you let us know.”
With that, he released his grip. The ungrateful raven pecked at his hand, missing it by the width of a leaf. “Traveller! Traveller!” it squawked as it flew. All the world from here to