Dragon Kiss (4 page)

Audun thought he saw Hildie and Loolee in the group, but they were gone before he got a good look. “Where are they headed?”

“To the top of the ice. They’ll take turns riding down the chute that winds around the outside of the stronghold. You wouldn’t have seen it, coming in when there was a storm the way you did, but it is pretty impressive if I do say so myself. Took me nearly a year of my days off to make it.”

“You made it by yourself?” Audun asked.

“The little ones needed something to do when the weather is bad, seeing that it’s bad most days. Ice floe tag isn’t safe for the youngest during a storm. Sliding down the chute has become their favorite game. Ah, look, I was talking so much that I didn’t realize we were almost there. You go right through that door and wait for the councillors to send for you. Shouldn’t be long now.”

“Thank you,” Audun called, as the bigger dragon continued down the ramp.

“My pleasure!” Frostybreath rumbled over his shoulder.

Four

F
ollowing Frostybreath’s directions, Audun closed the door behind him and took a seat on a ledge. He was curling up to rest his chin on his foot when a door opened and a dragoness who wasn’t much older than he was peeked into the room. Gesturing for him to follow, she stepped aside as he slipped through the door.

“What do I do now?” Audun whispered. He had entered the largest chamber he had ever seen. A hundred dragons could have spread their wings and still had room to move around. At the far end of the room five great slabs of stone rose from the floor in a half circle with the open side facing Audun. The center slab was higher than Audun’s head, with the rest only a foot or so shorter. Carvings of dragons in flight covered the slabs and each slab supported a life-sized statue of a dragon.

“Answer their questions,” said the dragoness, and she disappeared into the room he’d just left, pulling the door shut behind her.

Audun looked around the room. It was more dimly lit than the antechamber had been, and encased in so much ice that the sunlight didn’t penetrate as well as it had at the upper levels. He assumed that another door, near the slabs, was the entrance for the king and his councillors. Keeping his ears perked for the sound of approaching feet, he padded across the stone floor, trying to see what famous dragons the statues might depict. Audun was only a dozen yards away when the statue in the center moved.

“That’s close enough, young dragon,” boomed a voice that seemed to make the walls shake.

Suddenly the torches on the walls flamed brighter and Audun realized that the shapes on top of the slabs weren’t carvings at all, but real dragons. And if they were real, then the one in the center must be King Stormclaw and the other four could only be his councillors.

Uncertain how to act before the king, Audun bowed so that his forelegs were bent and his chin almost touched the ground.

“You may rise,” said the king.

Audun glanced up. He’d heard that the king was always chosen from among the older dragons, but he didn’t think that King Stormclaw looked that old. His neck still supported his head proudly, his back was still straight, and his wings showed no tears or gaps; the only evidence of age was the dullness of his blue-white scales and the shortness of his fangs. He was an imposing dragon and must have been exceedingly handsome when he was young.

Audun dropped his gaze when he realized that the king was studying him just as carefully. Finally, Stormclaw spoke, although he wasn’t talking to Audun. “So, Song, I finally get to meet your grandson. He looks a lot like you, although I can see High Flier in him as well.”

Startled, Audun looked up and let his gaze follow that of the king. Two elderly dragonesses were seated to the right of King Stormclaw. One of them was a stranger to Audun. The other was his grandmother.

Audun was confused. When he’d last seen his grandmother, she’d been with the rest of his family on the way to their cave overlooking the sea. No one had mentioned that they were going to visit the king. He couldn’t imagine what might have happened to bring them here. Before he could ask, however, King Stormclaw turned to him and said, “I’ve been asking your grandmother to join my council for years, but she’s only just relented. You should be very proud of her. She’s a remarkable dragoness. A talent like hers is rare.”

Audun nodded, but the king wasn’t finished yet.

“Young dragon, why have you come to see me? Are you here to make sure that I’m treating your grandmother well? As one of my councillors, she’ll be among the most respected dragons in the kingdom.”

It took Audun a moment to realize that the king was waiting for him to say something. The problem was, Audun wasn’t sure quite how to phrase his request. Although the other councillors were watching him with interest, his grandmother’s gaze was as impassive as if
she
were the stranger. He had a feeling that he wasn’t going to get any help from her.

Audun was still trying to think of what to say when the pale gray and white dragoness seated beside the king leaned toward Stormclaw and whispered something.

“Ah, yes,” said the king, nodding. “I remember now. Iceworthy mentioned something about your wanting our help. Something about becoming a human, as I recall.”

“That’s right, Your Majesty,” said Audun.

King Stormclaw frowned. “A peculiar request, and one I’m not often asked. Why do you want to be a human, boy? Isn’t being a dragon good enough for you?”

“Being a dragon is the best thing in the world!” said Audun. “I don’t want to give up being a dragon altogether. It’s just that, well, there’s this girl . . .”

“Ah, I see,” said the king, the furrow in his brow relaxing. “You met a dragoness and you want to impress her. I can understand that, but there are far better ways to impress a girl than by turning into a human.”

“That’s just it,” said Audun. “The girl is a human, or at least part of the time. She can also be a dragon and when she is, she’s the most beautiful shade of green—”

The king snorted and twitched his tail. “There’s no such thing as a green dragon, and even if there were, no human could possibly turn into one without . . .”

Song of the Glacier leaned toward the dragoness beside her and whispered into her pointed ear. The two councillors carried on a short, whispered conversation before they both turned to the king.

“Do you have something to tell me, Song?” said King Stormclaw.

Song nodded. “I’ve seen the girl myself, Your Majesty. She can indeed turn into a green dragon. You were right in that no natural dragon is green, but she is a dragon through magic, which might explain her . . . unusual color.”

The king’s brow ridge rose in surprise. “A human who could do that must be able to harness some powerful magic! Why have I never heard of such a one before?”

“She isn’t from the Icy North,” said Audun. “I followed her trail south to a kingdom called Greater Greensward. She is a princess of royal blood as well as the daughter of a powerful witch who is a Dragon Friend.” The hiss of indrawn dragon breath nearly drowned out Audun’s next words. “Whether a human or a dragoness, she is a brave and true friend and . . . more than that, to me. I love her, Your Majesty, and I’ve learned that the only way I can ever be with her is if I can be a human just as she can be a dragon. I’ve been told that you might be able to help me. Can you, Your Majesty?”

King Stormclaw scowled even more fiercely than before, but it wasn’t Audun who received the first taste of his anger. “Did you know of this, Song of the Glacier? Did you know that your grandson is enamored of the Green Witch’s daughter? She is the only human living who dares to call herself Dragon Friend and if she is friend to the fire-breathers, she is no friend of ours. You have sorely neglected your grandson’s education if he doesn’t know of the enmity between us.”

Song of the Glacier raised her head and looked directly at the king. “What happened between our kind and theirs took place long ago. Few living today feel as you do about the fire-breathers, Your Majesty. I did not teach my grandson such a lesson because it is not a bias that I would want a young dragon to learn.”

The dragon king narrowed his eyes in anger and the other members of the council gasped as the crest on top of his skull rose. Only Song of the Glacier didn’t seem intimidated by his aggressive stance. “You would not say such things if the fire-breathers had killed members of your own family,” growled King Stormclaw.

“But they did!” exclaimed Audun’s grandmother.

Glancing at the others in the chamber, the king shook his head. “We will talk of this another time.” He took a deep breath and his crest relaxed, making him seem less formidable. Turning to Audun, King Stormclaw said, “You ask for something I will not give. You may spend one more night in the stronghold, and leave in the morning. Now go, before my temper rises again.”

Audun felt as if someone had stuck an icicle into his innards and twisted it. He toyed with the idea of fleeing the island to go find Millie before King Stormclaw could stop him, but then he saw a peculiar look pass between the king and Song of the Glacier. Apparently something was going on here that he couldn’t understand.

Worried and upset, Audun left the antechamber. He had no sooner stepped onto the ramp when a gaggle of young dragonesses rushing up the slanted floor surrounded him and carried him along with them.

“Wait!” he said, trying to work his way through the crowd. “I have to—”

Someone nudged him back into the middle of the group of dragonesses. “You have to go with us!” Hildie announced from beside him. “We want you to try the chute. You’ve never seen anything like it.”

“But I’m really not in the mood for—”

“Then we’ll put you in the mood,” said Hildie.

Loolee danced around him, nimbly avoiding the other dragons’ feet. “You have to come with us, Audun! Please?”

“All right. I’ll do it for you, Loolee,” Audun replied, smiling down at the little dragoness.

The dragonesses’ enthusiasm was so contagious that by the time they reached the top of the ramp, Audun was nearly as excited as they were. They had passed countless corridors on the way up, but there was nothing at the highest point of the ramp except a level platform and a smooth tunnel angled steeply down.

“I’m going first this time!” Loolee shouted, as she ran to the edge of the platform. Amid a storm of protest from the other dragonesses, the little dragon girl carefully tucked her wings to her sides and hopped off the platform and into the tunnel. “Hoowee!” she shouted, as she disappeared from sight.

“Audun is next!” Hildie cried. She shoved him to the front of the still-forming line.

“What should I do?” he asked, teetering on the lip of the platform.

“Go!” shouted all the dragonesses. Half a dozen of them pushed him from behind.

Audun stumbled off the edge . . . and fell. “No!” he shouted. His heart seemed to climb into his throat, but the ice that formed the twisting, turning chute was so smooth that he couldn’t have stopped, no matter what. Opening his wings was out of the question—there wasn’t enough room. He raised his head once, bumping it sharply against the ceiling of the chute. After that he remained crouched as he hurtled down the incline on all fours, using his tail to keep his balance.

The chute wound steeply around the island, doubling back and looping through the center at least twice. There was no way out until the bottom, but soon the drop that had been terrifying became exhilarating and Audun didn’t want it to end. Finally, the ice-filtered daylight gave way to the absolute darkness of stone, and his ride was over. Sliding out of the chute onto a smooth stone floor, Audun glanced up at the wavering torches and saw Loolee waiting for him in the long, narrow room.

“Did you like it?” the little dragoness asked, her eyes bright.

“That was great!” said Audun.

Loolee grabbed his arm and pulled. “Come on, then. We can do it again, but we have to get to the top before anyone else or they’ll make us go to the end of the line.”

Audun stood on wobbling legs and said, “Lead the way.” Loolee grinned, and Audun grinned back. He looked around as he followed the little dragoness up the ramp and was surprised by how deep into the heart of the island the chute had carried them. “What’s down here?” he asked, as they passed the first of the corridors.

“Not much,” she replied. “King Stormclaw’s lair is one level below this, but you can’t get there from here. Even if you could, it’s off-limits to just about everybody. They say he keeps his treasure in a pit below his lair and it’s filled with precious gems. His councillors all have their rooms on this floor. They have meeting rooms and stuff on the floors above this. The audience chamber is on the floor above those. I don’t like it down here. It’s too dark even with the torches. I like the ice levels better. It’s always brighter up there, except during the really bad storms.”

“Are the councillors’ chambers off-limits, too?” asked Audun.

Loolee shrugged. “I suppose not, but nobody ever wants to go there. Why do you want to know?”

“Because my grandmother is the king’s newest councillor,” Audun said. “I’d like to go see her if I can.”

“You’re related to a councillor! That’s so chilled! I wish I was!”

Audun chuckled at the little dragoness’s enthusiasm. “So,” he said, “if I wanted to see my grandmother, which way should I go?”

“That’s easy. Go back to that hallway,” Loolee said, pointing to the corridor they had just passed, “and turn right. You’ll know you’re almost there when you run into the guards. But I’ve got to go if I want to be first again. See ya!”

While the little dragoness ran up the ramp, Audun followed her directions and went the other way. The corridor was wide, and it made abrupt changes in direction that soon had him completely disoriented. He slowed when he heard voices ahead, one of which was familiar.

“And then I told her, ‘Of course my feet are cold. I’m an ice dragon, aren’t I?’ ”

Audun recognized Frostybreath’s voice and wondered if the rough laughter that followed his joke belonged to the guards Loolee had mentioned. Rounding the next corner, Audun found Frostybreath talking to two equally huge dragons wearing medallions bearing the insignia of the king’s guards.