Dragon Airways (3 page)

"Perhaps you would like to visit some of the shops while your plane is prepared for departure," the hawker said, her expression openly unfriendly. Two stout men now stood behind her. She and Emmet were no longer welcome to wait there. It was clear. The stern-faced woman looked as if she would say something to Emmet, but her eyes passed over the two guards, and she moved away. Twice she looked over her shoulder.

"How long until takeoff?" Riette asked.

"Oh, it shouldn't be much longer now. We just need to get the plane fueled up. I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to take a walk. Somewhere else." The veneer of her persona had begun to crack.

"Come on," Riette said.

Emmet jumped up, looking happier than he had since reaching the airfield.

Having no desire to walk back toward town, Riette tried to disappear into the crowds maneuvering to and from the airships. Shouts in the far distance gave her a chill. Something had happened, and now someone was desperately searching. They had already come looking for her and Emmet, and she had no idea why, save that she'd always known they would eventually come. Still, it was a shock to find them banging on her door before first light. Having to enact her evacuation plan, she'd felt exonerated for having such a plan in place and at the same time like a complete failure since they would be so easily found. She should have done more. It had never seemed as urgent as their everyday lives. At times it had felt like feeding her own paranoia, but she'd been right all along, and now they would both pay for her halfhearted measures. No curtains awaited her nimble fingers, she had no way to earn more coin, and her survival skills were minimal.

Soon the sights grabbed her attention and were a welcome diversion. A group of workers used their combined weight and a series of pulleys to load cargo onto an airship. Where airplanes were sleek and smooth, dirigibles offered classic beauty reminiscent of seafaring ships. Again, Riette reconsidered her plan. It would be so much nicer to board an airship than to fly, no matter how quickly, to Forest's Edge. She'd already paid for passage on Midlands Air but contemplated her options.

"We'll be boarding for Arden, Jenna Valley, and Riverton in a just a few moments," an older man said. Dressed in a well-pressed black suit with a burgundy vest, lapels, and top hat to match, he grinned from within a neatly trimmed beard. "How can we welcome you today?"

"How much to Riverton?" Riette asked.

"Three coppers," the man said. "Since you're a slight lass. The young fellow rides for free."

"Thank you," she said. The man appeared disappointed she didn't pay right then, but Riette had learned her lesson.

Shouts drew closer. Back in town, three men in long black coats walked toward the airfield. Every step brought them closer. There was nowhere to hide. They were looking for Emmet and anyone else who was different. She couldn't let them find him. Desperate thoughts came to mind, but she drew steady, even breaths as her mother had taught her. That was when she saw Brick. He approached from the west and hadn't seen her yet, but he had seen the Zjhon, who were now close enough to make out rugged black uniforms and solid military boots. These were the Al'Zjhon of which she'd been warned. Her deepest fears had come true and were about to get worse.

Brick was no fool. He knew who had driven Riette to flee. He was a brave and noble man. Marching toward the armed men like a raging volcanic flow, he stopped before them, and his words rose above the din, albeit not clearly enough to be understood. The intent was clear, as was the swift response. No matter how powerful the smith's son might be, he fell after a single blow to the head.

Riette wanted to scream, wanted to run to him and protect him. Always he'd seemed like the strongest person in the whole world, and she'd had him to protect her. She should have let him come. She should have waited for him. Guilt pummeled her and her chin quivered. Emmet grabbed her hand and pulled her away. Since she would have chosen the same direction to flee, she allowed her brother to lead.

"Fly Dragon Airways," a boy a couple of years older than Emmet said. "We can take you anywhere you want to go. No airstrips required."

Only then did Riette see the dragon resting not far away. It was like someone had taken an old horse buggy and strapped it to the back of a rapidly aging reptile. Still, Riette had never seen a real dragon up close before. They had been a rare sight in Sparrowport before the war but even more so during. Towering above the hawker stood a man in a long black coat and top hat. If you didn't look too closely, he wasn't much different from anyone else. His height and alabaster skin marked him as unusual in these parts, but other details nagged at Riette's senses. A seam on the jacket was poorly sewn, and the material was worn clean through in places. The hat, while well made, looked to have lost several battles in its lifetime. He leaned on a cane, the carved snake head in his palm missing one fang. Even while ministering to the dragon, this man was aware of his surroundings. Riette found herself being regarded from beneath a pair of bushy white eyebrows on a face crisscrossed with lines like a dry lakebed.

A sudden wind tore at her belongings, and Riette lost her grip on one of the last things her mother had ever given her. The handwritten note raced along the airfield, driven by unpredictable gusts. "Wait right here," Riette said, but before she ran after the note, she repeated,
"Wait . . . right . . . here."

Emmet nodded and turned back to watch the dragon.

"Fly Dragon Airways! Because who don't want to fly on a dragon?"

"Does he breathe fire?" Riette heard Emmet ask even as she ran. After a few more darting steps, she reclaimed her mother's note. The Al'Zjhon drew ever closer, and neither the plane nor the airship appeared ready to take off. It made her sick to realize she'd wasted two silvers on a flight she might never take. As ever, she found herself needing to be responsible for both her and Emmet and coming up short.

The tall man was now kneeling before Emmet and handing him a marshmallow on a stick. Riette sucked in a deep breath and pumped her legs. Before she could shout in warning, her little brother stood before the aging but nonetheless formidable beast. Only then did Riette see the dragon's entire face, and it left her speechless. Most of what had once been one side of its face was now gone, in its place weathered copper—deep orange in color but marbled with streaks of green. Within a masterfully forged enclosure, intricate in its detailed re-creation of the creature's wasted face, rested a piercing eye that stared back.

After a deep breath, the dragon regarded Emmet and the marshmallow, rearing up over him. Riette screamed as the dragon struck, snatching the marshmallow from the stick in a single swift motion, leaving the stick and its bearer intact. Emmet never moved an inch.

"You horrible man!" Riette shouted as she got closer. He regarded her with no more expression than a stone. Not taking the time to tell him what she thought, she dragged Emmet away. The tall man watched them go, and Emmet turned to meet his eyes. He pointed back and said, "Magic."

At this, the tall man's face finally showed some reaction, which alarmed Riette even more. Dragging Emmet away, she scanned the remaining ships, looking for any ready to take off, yet all appeared to be somewhere in the process of refueling. The first plane she'd thought she would board was now taking on passengers, one of which was almost certainly Al'Zjhon. Two more continued their search. She'd run out of time.

Others had begun to notice the Zjhon as well. It resulted in a wave of startled exclamations followed by utter silence. All the fighting troops were at the front, and even those on their way were not yet ready for a fight.

"Fly Dragon Airways because we're leaving
right now.
"

Riette needed no more urging. What other choice did she have? "How much?"

While fiddling with straps and bits of harness, the tall man shrugged. The young man shrugged as well. He wore a cap like Emmet's and a frilly shirt that in no way went with his overalls. His shoes were mismatched, and something about him was different, but she couldn't figure out what. "Just put your belongings and the kid in the box, strap him in, and climb aboard. Unless you want to ride in the box with the kid."

"No one is riding in a box," Riette announced, but she moved toward the dragon. The Al'Zjhon made their way through the airship passengers. The hawker shrugged and loaded her belongings into the box, which did appear to have seating and a small window. The last bits, those most precious to her, she herself placed in the box after making certain it was secure. The inside was of soft red upholstery and could have seated her and Emmet almost comfortably if not for being in a box on the back of a dragon. The thought gave her chills. The dragon turned to regard her and she reconsidered. At least one did not have to worry about being eaten by an airship.

"My name's Tuck. I'll be your flight attendant," the boy said while securing Riette and Emmet's lap and shoulder straps. Not waiting for him to finish, the dragon stood and turned toward an open landing strip. The carriage bucked and shifted. Tuck wasn't strapped in at all when the dragon started running. After triple-checking the straps and hearing multiple aircraft starting up, Tuck said, "You really should'a put the kid in the box. These straps are made for big people."

"No one is riding in a
box,
" Riette said, putting her arm around Emmet and taking up some of the slack in his straps.

Slowly and uncomfortably, the dragon gained speed despite the hitch in its gait. The now constant wheezing didn't sound good either. Riette wished she'd had more time for reconsideration, but life moved at full speed. The airfields ended at sheer cliffs, which was one reason she'd always avoided them. Heights had never been her thing. She was afraid of a steep flight of stairs.

"Is the dragon gonna die?" Emmet asked.

Riette elbowed him in the side. Tuck looked back, eyes wide in shock and incredulity, but he said nothing. The tall man either didn't hear or pretended not to notice.

CHAPTER THREE

Sacrifices are best made by the weak.

—Argus Kind, usurper king of the Zjhon

* * *

Manicured grasses rushed beneath. Issuing a triumphant grunt, the dragon thrust out its wings and somehow caught the wind. With a gut-wrenching upward lurch just before reaching the cliff, they plunged over the edge and toward the rocky shoreline below, lacking the speed most airplanes required for liftoff.

The drop in air temperature was noticeable almost immediately. Riette clutched Emmet to her and gritted her teeth while falling toward the docks. Ships lined the deep inlet, sheltered from storms and forming a prickly fence.

The tall man showed no emotion, and Tuck was almost composed. Emmet appeared to be enjoying himself. Riette screamed.

Well before colliding with any of the ships, the dragon spread its wings wider. Using their speed, the beast aimed for broad, white beaches, where the air grew warmer. Circling the updrafts moved them higher but far too slowly. No sooner had they cleared the cliffs than the first diesel planes raced past them. From an open side door, men in dark coats watched.

One pulled a portable air cannon from within his coat and aimed it at them. It fired with a thump, and a moment later, projectiles struck leather and scale. The dragon grunted but flew on, still climbing upward. The diesel plane gained altitude, turning in a wide sweep. A second plane took off, not showing any signs of Al'Zjhon. A third plane flew in from the south and dusted the airstrip before soaring out over the harbor. This plane was easily identified as a Zjhon aircraft, and it bristled with weaponry. How could they be there? Sparrowport should have been far beyond their range.

Turning in tight circles, the dragon gained what altitude she could before any planes returned. Defenseless against the enemy, their only chance was to hide. But still they spiraled higher.

"What are we doing?" Riette asked. The tall man ignored her. Tuck shrugged. "Does he ever talk?" she asked the boy.

"The cap'n used to talk a lot," Tuck said. "Not much no more. Don't need no words, though. He says what he means just fine. You'll see."

From the wood panel before her came a popping sound followed by fizzing and a dull glow. A sign showing two hands gripping handles was illuminated.

"The cap'n has turned on the 'hold on for dear life' sign," Tuck said. "You really should'a put the kid in the box. Hold on now. Here we go."

The dragon raced back toward the airstrips with alarming speed. Airplanes approached from two directions. They were doomed. Emmet grinned beside her as if none of this were real, as if they were in one of the stories he liked so much and nothing could actually harm them.

Airships now lumbered into the skies, and balloons drifted on the wind. While racing past the airfield, Riette saw Brick holding his head and boarding a balloon. At least he was alive. Too bad the world had gone mad. She would have liked more time with him.

"What's its name?" Riette asked, trying to calm her nerves.

'"
Her
name is Dashiq. And she's a battle dragon."

The captain turned his head and glared at Tuck for an instant. The boy went silent.

A female dragon. Riette never would have guessed. There was nothing feminine about their mount, just a terrifying reptilian predator, and this one near the end of her days.

Just then the Zjhon plane returned, falling in behind. Flitting from side to side, Dashiq did what she could to keep the plane off her tail. Air cannons sounded in rapid succession. Stone shot flew overhead, devastating historic buildings instead of their intended target.

Dipping lower, the dragon raced between buildings, wings trimmed, dodging the falling debris and executing a sharp turn before soaring down a back street. The Zjhon plane roared above, low and slow. Just before the plane passed overhead, the dragon flew straight up, pinning Riette and Emmet back in their seats. Pumping her wings and using claws to run up the side of a tall building, the dragon thrust herself skyward, colliding with the Zjhon plane in midflight. A single bite ruined the plane's tail section, severing structural supports and controls.

It was over in an instant, and they soared over the streets of Sparrowport, unmolested. Anyone who saw Riette and Emmet now would certainly never forget.

A second plane passed overhead. Dashiq broke free of town and raced upward again, this time tracing the contour of a ridgeline where the cold, unpredictable updrafts gave them extra lift. Clouds gathered not far offshore, but getting to them alive might prove impossible. Riette hadn't seen the Zjhon ship go down, and no explosions followed. They would come back.

Leaning out as far as she dared, she watched the balloon carrying Brick blot out the sky behind them. He stood like a man carved from stone, pointing at Dashiq. His lips moved and Riette couldn't imagine what words he spoke. Approaching engines spurred Brick on to motion. Watching and aiming, she could almost see him calculating before he threw what looked like a full picnic basket at the approaching Midlands Air plane, which appeared to be in the hands of the Al'Zjhon. Riette hoped all the innocents aboard the plane survived the day, as Brick's aim was true. Smoke poured from the engine and did not bode well.

"Did she fight in the war? Is that what happened to her?" Riette asked, trying not to think about it but unable to keep from asking. For the first time, the captain responded to one of her questions. He did not answer, but Riette saw a slight movement of his head, a reaction to her question.

Tuck mouthed "battle dragon" and made chomping motions with his hands in front of his face. The captain put a stop to it with a single fist to the leather saddle in which he rode.

Riette was left to wonder how the Zjhon had gotten planes into the air above Sparrowport. Always before, the Zjhon homeland had been far beyond the range of even the largest planes ever built. This changed everything for Midlanders since nowhere would be truly safe.

So far, Argus Kind, the self-made Zjhon king, was only looking for people who were different or unusual, those special or unique in some way. Riette's heart broke for these people, especially knowing her brother was among them. At least twice people had come through Sparrowport looking for outcasts and pariahs, and no one had mentioned Emmet. It was the reason she had stayed. He often made people uncomfortable, but they knew he was just a little boy with developmental issues. They forgave him. The thought brought a tear to Riette's eyes since she hadn't always been able to do the same.

Dashiq soared over a mature forest, where massive trees created an impermeable canopy despite being widely spaced. When a large opening appeared, lake waters reflected the sky, and the dragon dived toward the still, mirrorlike surface. Racing mere hand widths above the stillness created a surreal reflection. Beneath the canopy, gaps between trees did not appear large enough for a dragon to fly through, but Dashiq made it appear easy.

Deep enough within the woodlands so as not to be too close to the lake, the dragon reversed her wing flaps, slowing them before a rocky outcropping. When she landed, Riette saw a waterfall pouring from a cliff twice her height. Moss covered the ground and the lower parts of tree trunks and root systems. Light pierced the canopy, but they would not be easily spotted from above.

The captain was out of his seat, onto the ground, and going over Dashiq before anyone else was unstrapped. From under his seat, he pulled a wooden box filled with implements but went immediately for the fine-tipped pliers.

Three different times, the dragon grunted while the captain administered aid. Tuck guided them down. Riette felt bad stepping on the poor beast, but the young man assured her she would do no harm.

"She's just tired now, miss," he said. "Just needs some rest is all."

"Where are we going?" she asked, not certain she wanted to know the answer.

"Where do you want to go?" Tuck asked.

"Somewhere safe," Riette said without really meaning to. Emmet looked at her with something akin to hope in his eyes, and she snapped back to reality.

"Then that's where we're going," Tuck said.

The captain must have heard the entire conversation but maintained his silence.

"How did you end up here?" Riette asked.

Tuck turned his head sideways and smiled at her. "He caught me picking his pocket. He taught me a lesson . . . and then another lesson. Never really stopped."

"And your parents?"

Shrugging, he looked away. "I vaguely remember having parents."

"My loss is more recent," Riette said.

The boy turned back to her. "Sorry."

She just nodded. Emmet walked to the captain's side and put his hands on Dashiq. Riette feared the man might scold her brother, but he pretended not to notice. It was the closest thing to approval she'd seen from the man.

"Does he treat you well?" Riette asked in a whisper.

"Better than anyone else ever has," Tuck said. "By a mile. We should get something to eat and drink while we've got the chance. When the cap'n wants to leave, we leave."

"How much," Riette asked, growing suspicious.

"How much what?"

"How much is all this going to cost me? What kind of airline doesn't know where it's going or how much it costs to get there?"

"Two coppers each."

"To anywhere?" Riette asked. "What if I wanted to go to the Godfist?"

The captain stopped what he was doing and made a fist. He didn't turn around or make any other gesture, but that was enough to convey his meaning.

"Passengers come first," Tuck said. "Ain't many places we won't go. Ain't much we won't do to ensure your satisfaction."

The captain gave a quick, slight nod before going back to running his hands over Dashiq's scaly armor, Tuck produced pickled eggs and cheese from their stores. Riette wrinkled her nose, but when Tuck went to take the pickled egg away, she grabbed it and bit into it before she changed her mind. It was tart and pungent but not so bad as what she had been expecting. Emmet joined them, seemingly drawn by the smell. He did not hesitate for an instant when Tuck handed him an egg and cheese.

When darkness passed over them a moment later, everyone fell silent. Above could be heard the creak of line and occasional roar.

"Balloons," Tuck whispered.

"That could be Brick," Riette said, but she, too, whispered, knowing it might not be. When a second balloon floated over, no one spoke.

The captain turned to Tuck and held out one hand, palm up, fingers spaced evenly and pointing up.

Tuck shook his head, and the captain shrugged.

What passed between them Riette could not say, and she didn't like it. The feeling they were hiding something from her persisted, and she kept her guard up.

"We've a long flight coming up," Tuck said. "A real long flight. The dragon would prefer any 'people business' you may have be handled while we're here on the ground. We won't be stopping much."

"You know all that from him holding up his hand?" Riette asked, an edge in her voice.

"I know the place he means. We've gone there before when Dashiq was hurt. It's a long ways away. A week on the wing and no less."

"A week?"

Tuck nodded. "Don't have no choice now. Dashiq needs healing. Dead dragons don't fly."

The captain reacted to the statement but made no other response. His palpable silence irritated Riette. How could anyone keep his mouth shut for so long? And at a time like this.

"Your only other choice is to stay here," Tuck said. "And I wouldn't if I was you." The continued sound of balloons in the area emphasized his words. "You said you wanted to be somewhere safe. This trip will get you part of the way there." The captain gave Tuck a disapproving look. "We leave at dark. You might want to stretch your legs."

Emmet took Tuck's suggestion and walked in a circle around the area. Riette sat nearby on a bed of moss, watching him and considering her options. Planes flew overhead, making her nervous, but she reminded herself that planes flew in and out of Sparrowport every day. It didn't mean they were all looking for them. But the Al'Zjhon
were
looking for Emmet. How they had gotten so far behind the front line was a mystery, but now she knew they could be anywhere. Flying out with Dragon Airways, who definitely had agendas of their own, put her and Emmet in far friendlier hands than those of Argus Kind. His was a twisted and jaded soul who'd seen far too much death. Now he saw little else.

Tuck spoke over his shoulder while sifting through supplies. "I hope you like pickled eggs."

He wasn't making her decision any easier. She saw through his act, though. Sensing a person's inner being was something she had strived to do since Emmet was born. In Tuck, she saw a wounded heart behind a wall of humor and sarcasm. A haunted look came to his eyes far too often. Riette knew that look. At wartime it was far too common. "Would you like a hand?"

The captain tensed. Tuck looked as if he would either laugh or cry. When Tuck laughed, the old man shook his head. After a brief hesitation and with his face flushed deep red, Tuck extended his right arm. The gloved fist appeared no different than the other, except it did not move. After another moment, Tuck removed the prosthetic arm, revealing an arm unlike anything Riette had ever seen. She hadn't been expecting to see any such thing, and she sucked in a deep breath. Tuck pulled away in apparent shame, and the captain turned toward her.