Dragon Tears (12 page)

“If we had any chance of success on this flame-blasted trip, our chances just got slimmer,” he said as he entered.

“I know,” Patrik said. “Does this mean you think we should go on?”
“I can’t see as if we have much choice. We’ll just have to hope that we can find a way to the dragon king in spite of the fact that none of us are pure in heart or in action.”

He flopped down on the bedroll and turned away from his apprentice. Patrik knew enough about the wizard’s temper to leave him alone.

By morning, Allard’s mood hadn’t improved and they broke camp in silence. Rat was recovered enough to sit in her harness. Patrik double-checked its knots. The last thing they needed was another accident.

Allard’s mood was contagious and neither of the dragons or Patrik felt much like talking. Each one worried about what they would find at the end of their journey and how they would accomplish their mission. No one had to be reminded of its importance for that was first and foremost in each of their minds.

Only the occasional flapping of the dragons’ wings broke the silence as they flew throughout the morning. Gone were the giant evergreens, replaced by scraggly-looking pines. The lush grasses had also disappeared and in their place, spiky thorn-covered bushes dotted the sandy soil and clumps of wiry grass that sprung back into shape when crushed.

After a short break, they resumed flying, heading straight into the sun. Its white-hot glare almost blinded them until it began to sink below the horizon. It was only then that they saw what lay before them.

“Look!” cried Patrik, pointing straight ahead.

A shimmering expanse of water filled their vision and stretched farther than their eyes could see. Below them, sand dunes rose to meet the sea, and all around them lay an emptiness as vast and as wide as the sea itself.

Without being told, the dragons prepared to land, folding back their wings, and circling around in a slow, gentle dive. Even Redwing had a difficult time landing in the sand. Her giant legs sank into its softness and prevented her from using her usual running glide. Larkin didn’t even try to glide. He simply sank into the sand, and jolted to a stop, his passengers bumping into each other with the jerkiness of his landing.

Rat dismounted and yowled her displeasure at their new surroundings. Patrik followed, his head moving slowly from side to side as he tried to take it in. “This must be it,” he said to the wizard who had joined him at his side.

Both dragons turned their heads toward the humans, listening, and reluctant to try walking across the sand.

“I think you are correct,” the wizard said.

“The Sea of Lights?” Larkin asked.

“Yes, I believe so, since it lies directly in the path we took, and it’s the only large body of water on the map.”

“What do you suggest we do now?” Redwing asked.

“I have no flaming idea,” the wizard said, “and I’m open to suggestions.”

Chapter Eleven

Advisor Blackwell strode through the palace halls unaware of those who scurried out of his way. No one wanted to face his wrath, or even his pleasure, for both were equally unpleasant.

His booted feet echoed down the vastness of the corridor and off its marble walls. Light streamed in through the multi-paned windows and reflected off the rings on his fingers. Each one was encircled by a different gemstone, and they cast rainbows of color on the white marble walls. His long red robes barely touched the floor, and the sound they made as he passed was a whisper of the evil he planned.

Blackwell rounded the corner and entered the king’s audience chamber, focusing his attention on the jewel-encrusted throne at the far end of the room. The chamberlain backed away from the man. He knew better than to ask if the advisor had an appointment. The king always made time for Blackwell. King Harrold, noticing the arrival of his advisor, motioned to the petitioner kneeling at the foot of his throne and said, “This audience is at an end.”

The petitioner didn’t protest and rushed out of the audience room as fast as he could on his knees.

Blackwell made a perfunctory bow before the king’s throne, waiting for the king to acknowledge him. He didn’t wait long.

“Blackwell, how are things progressing?” The king’s voice trembled with age and fatigue.

“Very well, my lord.”

“Tell me.”

“All the wizards of the first order are ready. All the second and third order wizards have been assigned their backup positions. The other magic users have been arrayed behind the lines to provide support to the wizards. Those with minimal magic are armed and ready to march.”

The king’s fingers drummed the arm of his throne. “Are we finally ready, then?”

“Yes, your highness. All is ready. We cannot fail. The dragons have no defense against the power of our magic.” The advisor’s expression never changed as he lied to the king.

“Excellent. We will march in the morning.”

Blackwell bowed to the king’s wishes, hiding the smile that twisted his face into an evil grin.

∞

“What do you mean?” Patrik asked.

“Just that. I have no idea what to do now, “ Allard said. “The map ends here, at the Sea of Lights.”

Redwing shuffled, the sand dragging at her legs, as she plodded over to where the two humans stood.

“Aren’t there any of your towns or villages on the map?” she asked.

“No. I guess we’ll just have to fly up and down the coast until we find one, and then hire a boat to take us across.”

“Why can’t we fly across?” Larkin asked.

“No one knows how far it is to the other side, and we can’t risk getting stuck in the middle someplace when you get tired,” the wizard said, pointing out to sea.

Patrik shook his head in disbelief. “Nobody’s going to let two dragons on board their ship, even if they have one large enough. Besides, how would we pay them?”

“With these,” the wizard replied, pulling a felt bag out of his robes. He opened it and out spilled a dozen different gemstones, their colors catching the sun and turning the wizard’s hand into a rainbow of color.

Patrik’s eyes grew as wide as his open mouth. “Where did you get those?”

“I gave them to him,” Redwing said. “We dragons value them for their beautiful colors, but we know that humans will fight to the death over them. I thought they might be useful, so I brought some along.”

Larkin sniffed the stones in the wizard’s hand. “I probably mined some of those,” he said.

Patrik eyed the glowing stones in the wizard’s hand. Allard’s plan might work if they could find a fishing village along the coast, and if someone had a ship large enough to hold them all. They also had to be willing to try and sail across the Sea of Lights. There certainly seemed to be a lot of ifs.

“So what do we do now?” Patrik asked.

“We set up camp,” the wizard replied, “and wait until morning.”

Setting up camp didn’t take very long. The tent pegs wouldn’t hold in the sand, so they did without the lean-to. Driftwood was abundant so finding firewood wasn’t a problem. Redwing flamed the fire to life as Patrik rummaged through their packs for food.

“We better find a village soon,” he said to the wizard, “we’re running low on supplies.”

“I know,” the wizard replied with a sigh. “It was impossible to determine how long this journey would last, so I packed up everything we had on hand. Unfortunately we didn’t have that much in stock.”

Patrik pulled out the last of their dried meat and some root vegetables. “Anyone know where there’s fresh water?”

“I saw a stream when we were landing,” Redwing replied. “I’ll show you.”

The sun was setting by the time they returned. Orange, yellow, red, and purple streamers colored the sky and the water below. It looked as if someone had taken a giant paintbrush and swirled the colors to life. Where the horizon met the sea the water shimmered and glistened with color. An occasional seabird dotted the sky, twirling and soaring in the failing light.

Patrik almost dropped his water pail at the sight, forgetting his chores and their problems as its beauty overwhelmed his senses.

A single piercing note broke their silent contemplation. High and sweet, it floated over the water like a captive bird just released. It was followed by a series of notes that joined together to form a heartbreaking melody.

Patrik tore his gaze from the sunset to stare at Larkin, whose head was lifted as high as it could go. The dragon’s mouth was open wide, and Patrik watched Larkin’s throat as it contracted and expanded with each note.

“What’s he doing?” he whispered to Redwing, not wanting to break the spell that the dragon’s music wove.

“Singing in the moonrise. Now be quiet, human.”

Patrik turned back to the sunset and let the dragon’s song wash over him. It filled his heart and mind with an aching need to reach out and capture this moment forever. The music swirled around him and through him, pulling him away from his earthbound self and joining him with something so majestic, so awe-inspiring, that he thought his heart would break with its beauty.

The sun sank below the horizon and the last note trailed off into the darkness loosening the enchantment that held Patrik spellbound. Patrik picked up his water pail that he had dropped and walked over to Larkin.

“That was incredible, I’ve never heard anything so beautiful.”

“It was nothing,” the dragon replied, blushing. “All dragons sing in the moonrise and the sunrise.”

“But not all dragons do it like you, Larkin,” Redwing said, joining them.

Larkin’s blush deepened, turning his scales as dark as the night that surrounded them.

Wizard Allard said nothing, but Patrik noticed that he scribbled away in his journal as he sat by the fire. The boy joined him, hanging the water pot over the flames, and adding the dried meat and root vegetables.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’ve been recording our adventures. Keeping track of how long it has taken us to get here, and making a map of our path. I’ve also been observing the habits of the dragons. When we get back, my observations might prove useful to others.”

Larkin and Redwing set off in search of their own dinners, plodding through the sand with heavy footsteps, while Patrik and Allard’s dinner cooked. The firelight reflected off the water like little dancing sparks of light.

A pale moon was rising in the night sky by the time the dragons returned, and nose to tail, they curled up around the fire, seeking its warmth. Patrik rolled his sleeping mat out next to Larkin. The soft sand was much more comfortable than the forest floor of previous nights, and he was soon fast asleep.

So deeply did he sleep that he might have slept until the noon hour, but Larkin’s stirring woke him shortly after sunrise. The dragon’s head was raised high, and his nostrils flared as he sniffed the morning air.

“What is it, Larkin?” he asked.

“I smell dragons, but not dragons. I don’t understand.”

Redwing was also awake and sniffed the air, her nostrils flaring in and out in rapid procession. “I’ve never smelled anything like this.”

Patrik shrugged. “I don’t smell anything except seawater and fish.”

Wizard Allard joined them, scanning the skies. “I don’t see anything,” he said, holding a hand to his brow to shield his gaze from the morning sun.

“You’re looking the wrong way, Wizard,” Redwing said. “Look out to the sea.”

All three heads turned toward the water.

“I don’t see anything,” Patrik complained.

“I do,” Larkin said, “and they’re headed our way.”

“What, what do you see?” Patrik asked.

“I am not sure yet, human,” Redwing replied. “But the smell is getting stronger the closer they get.”

“Yes, you’re right, Redwing,” Larkin said.

Larkin began to slowly plod his way through the sand to the shore. Redwing followed more slowly, her greater size and weight making it more difficult to walk through the sand.

Patrik shrugged. “I guess we should go see what this is all about,” he said to the wizard.

“Yes, we should. We don’t need any surprises this late in our trip.”

The two humans joined the dragons by the seashore, but all they saw was an endless expanse of water. Larkin, however, was almost prancing with excitement, shifting his weight from foot to foot, and twitching his tail back and forth in agitation.

Rat, not one to be left out of things, joined them, her tail switching in time with Larkin’s. Only Redwing seem undisturbed, and sat patiently on her haunches, her gaze never leaving the water in front of her.

Patrik’s patience was running thin. He couldn’t tell how long they’d been standing there, but it seemed to him as if it had been hours. He was about to start back to camp when Larkin suddenly flapped his wings, ran straight for the sea, and launched into the air. Redwing joined him with just a few graceful strokes of her wings. The boy watched as the two dragons began circling the water in front of them. Focused on his friends, at first he missed the large lumpy forms beneath the waves. But when one of them raised its large head out of the water, he knew, without a doubt, what had gotten his friends so excited.

“Water dragons,” he whispered to the wizard, afraid their voices might frighten them away.

“I believe you are right, young Patrik. And I think we might be the first humans to ever see them.”

Patrik could see that they came in every shade of blue imaginable. Turquoise, azure, sky blue, baby blue, cobalt, navy, indigo, sapphire, and every shade in between, they arrayed themselves on the shoreline. Redwing and Larkin quickly landed in front of them, bowing their heads in greeting.

“Brothers and sisters, we greet you,” Redwing said.

The water dragons stood on the shoreline like soldiers in rank, one row after another. The rising sun reflected off their multi-faceted blue eyes, making them shine like the purest sapphires. One dragon, larger than the others, lifted his head high and spoke, “Who is it that sang in the moonrise? Never have we heard it sung so beautifully. We came to honor the singer.”

Redwing extended a wing and pushed Larkin forward. “This young one, sir,” she replied.