Dragon Tears (3 page)

A toothy grin cracked his scaly face. Singing was the only time he felt equal to the others, the only time he felt he contributed to the brood. And, at least for a few minutes, he felt worthy to be called a dragon.

∞

Excitement filled Patrik’s steps as he ran back to the wizard’s cabin. Even knowing that a lecture awaited him couldn’t dim his enthusiasm. He had seen a dragon for the first time, and next time he planned to see more than just a glimpse. He knew where to look for them now, and he didn’t plan to let anything stop him from finding out more.

It was almost dark and the moon had just risen by the time he opened the cabin door. Kindling still covered the floor but the wizard was not waiting for him as he expected. A light in the study told Patrik that his master was still engrossed in his work.

Patrik gathered up the scattered kindling and neatly stacked it near the fireplace while wondering what could keep the wizard so occupied. Their normal daily routine of breakfast, followed by magic lessons, followed by chores, and then lunch, after which the wizard locked himself in his study until sundown, had not changed in the two seasons he had been apprenticed to the wizard.

A small chill of worry crept up Patrik’s spine, causing him to shiver. Whatever it is, it must be important, he thought.
I wonder if he’s planning to cast some type of spell on me as punishment.

This thought prompted Patrik to hurry through the rest of his chores. He laid the fire to be lit by the wizard’s magic. The huge fireplace dominated one wall of the kitchen. Its other walls were lined with shelves from which scrolls and parchments lay in untidy heaps. It was much the same in the rest of the cabin. Every wall, chair, or table was covered with scrolls or parchments. Finding a place to sit required moving them aside usually to form another messy pile. The only room not swimming in scrolls was Patrik’s small bedroom at the back of the cabin.

Patrik set the table, his growing fear tying his stomach in knots as he realized the wizard hadn’t even bothered to start dinner. He turned down the quilt on the wizard’s bed, after first removing yet another pile of scrolls and parchments. When the door to the study finally opened, Patrik couldn’t decide if he was relieved or even more frightened.

Wizard Allard walked into the kitchen, carrying a lamp in one hand and a scroll in the other. He barely glanced at the boy as he set both items on the table. “Come here, Patrik, I have something to say to you.”

Thick lines of concentration creased the wizard’s bald forehead. The boy steeled himself for the worst. Worse than that was the frown on the wizard’s face. Allard’s eyes showed extreme displeasure.

“Sit down.”

Patrik pulled out a chair and sat opposite the wizard, trying hard not to show his nervousness. Usually, the wizard got angry, yelled at him, and then quickly calmed down. But Allard’s carefully controlled manner made the boy more frightened by the sunmark.

The wizard looked down at the scroll he carried, studying it, and ignoring Patrik.

The boy knew the worst had come. The wizard was studying a spell. He was going to give him a case of hives or boils, or turn him into something terrible or…Patrik couldn’t think of anything worse.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be…”

“Patrik, the king’s messenger arrived today,” Wizard Allard interrupted. “All Magicians of the First Order are called to war. The king has decided to launch a full-out attack on the dragons’ lairs. All Magicians of the Second and Third Orders are also being called out to support the troops, even those with minimal magic powers.

Patrik couldn’t help but sigh with relief and then almost immediately he felt guilty about it.
People will die. Dragons will die.

“But why?” he asked at last.

“I’ve been pondering that question all afternoon. According to this message,” he held up the scroll, “the king has decided the time has come to rid the world of all dragons once and forever.”

The boy thought for a minute, “But that still doesn’t explain why.”

“Exactly,” said the wizard, “and that’s what concerns me.”

Allard rose and began pacing the room, his long robes flowing out behind him. “We’ve always had border skirmishes: an occasional sheep that’s gone missing or a cow that’s lost her milk because of a dragon getting too close. Farmers mount up a raid on one of their dens, and it’s over. There’s been this sort of almost peace for centuries now. This doesn’t make any sense. Something’s wrong, and I can’t figure out what’s really going on.”

The magician, as if noticing for the first time that the fire wasn’t lit, flicked a finger toward it. Warming flames rose from the kindling, and Patrik hurried over to tend them.

“As you know,” the wizard continued, without even looking at the fire or Patrik, “I am a wizard, skilled in all the arts of magic, higher even than your mother and father.” He didn’t wait for Patrik’s agreement but continued as if thinking aloud. “Therefore, I answer to no one, not even the king. However, this concerns me. War is not healthy, for
anyone
. I do not think the king has considered this carefully enough.”

“Therefore…” Finally he turned to look at Patrik, and said, “I plan to pay him a visit.”

Patrik dropped the log he’d been carrying to the fireplace. “What?”

“Exactly, we will leave in the morning.”

∞

Larkin followed the others back to his cave, the evening song still ringing in his ears.
Too bad they don’t give out rewards for singing. If they did, my cave would be covered with jewels.
He shrugged his shoulders, making his footsteps hop a little.
Oh well, maybe someday I’ll do something important, and then they’ll have to notice me.
Maybe I’ll fly away from here and discover a new land, or a new species of dragons.

That thought made him remember the unusual scent he had discovered on his ledge. “I wonder what it was?” he mumbled to himself. “I’ve never smelled anything like it.”

He felt the brush of wings against his side and jumped at the unexpected touch. Redwing, a red dragon lowered her snout in the universal sign of greeting. He dropped his snout to hers, acknowledging her presence. “Redwing?” he asked, pleased with himself for remembering her name.

“Hi, Larkin. I just wanted to say that I thought you sang beautifully tonight.”

A blush of pleasure crept into his face and his eyes whirled like a kaleidoscope. “Thank you,” was all he could manage to say.

“May I walk with you?”

He stopped and turned to look at her. “Aren’t you afraid what the others might say?”

She shrugged, her wings flapping a little as she did so. “I really don’t care. They’re wrong to pick on you so much. You’re just different, that’s all. And by my flame, there’s nothing wrong with being different.”

She turned her head toward him as he snorted in disbelief. They were walking side by side down the tunnel that led to his cave, her head and shoulders standing about a snout-span taller than his, even though she had hatched a half a moon later.

“Don’t let them bother you,” she said, her yellow eyes, tinged brown with concern and sparkling with earnestness. “Everyone is different in some way or another. That’s the way the great Skyhawk made us. We’re not all supposed to be the same.”

Larkin nodded in silence, not knowing what to say. They reached his cave and she followed him inside. “It’s cold in here,” she said. “You want me to light your firestones?”

Again, Larkin could only nod. He had gathered the firestones, just like every dragon did, but his remained unlit because he still hadn’t learned how to flame. No one had ever offered to light them for him, not even his brood mother.

“Thanks,” he said, as the stones glowed red and their warmth began to spread throughout his den.

Redwing turned to leave. “Good-night, Larkin. I can’t wait to hear you sing in the sunrise.”

He watched her go, her long red tail trailing out the mouth of his cave. The small dragon curled up next to the firestones, feeling the heat soak through his body. With his tail wrapped around him, he rested his nose down on his forelegs and closed his eyes. But sleep wouldn’t come.

The things she’d said kept echoing in his mind. He’d always thought he needed to be like the others. It had never occurred to him that being different might be a good thing. He wasn’t sure if he believed it or not, but it made him feel good to think that it might be true. It also made him happier to think he might have found a friend. Maybe she might recognize the strange smell on the ledge outside his secret passageway. But as soon as the thought entered his head, he dismissed it. Best to keep his secrets to himself.

∞

“But we can’t leave tomorrow!”

“Why ever not?” asked the wizard.

“Because…” Patrik paused, thinking. He couldn’t tell the wizard about the dragon he’d seen or his plans to follow it back to its den. “Because we aren’t ready,” he said at last.

“Nonsense. We can pack tonight and be ready in the morning, and besides, those lazy hay-burners need the exercise.”

Patrik couldn’t suppress a groan. It was a three-day ride by horseback to the royal city: three days there and three days back, almost a whole week. By that time, the dragon could be long gone.

The wizard stared at his apprentice with a quizzical look on his face. “What is it boy? You’d think I’d told you to water the horses with a thimble.”

Patrik thought quickly. He needed to come up with a good excuse and he needed it now. “Well, for one thing, who would take care of Rat?” he asked.

Now it was the wizard’s turn to groan. “By my beard, I forgot about that flame-cursed animal.”

“The last time we left her alone, she broke through the windows and nearly destroyed everything in the house.”

“I know, I know.” The wizard paused, thinking. “Wish we had never found her. Life was so much simpler without that mangy animal.”

Patrik fought to hide his grin. He knew how much the wizard really cared about Rat. Ever since he had brought home the abandoned kitten, his master had doted on her as if she were a child. Part highland prowler and part village cat, the hybrid animal came and went as she pleased. As large as a dog, but with the instincts of a hunter, Rat returned every night for a bowl of milk and a plate of scraps. The one time they hadn’t been home to let her in, she had jumped through the closed window, shattering it. They’d returned home to find every kitchen shelf ransacked, and all the feather pillows ripped to shreds.

Allard stroked his beard while he thought. “I suppose,” he said at last, “I could transport myself there and back.”

This time Patrik didn’t even try to repress his smile. “That’s a wonderful idea.”

The wizard pursed his lips as if he had swallowed something sour. “Yes, but using that much magical power is going to leave me exhausted. I would have to rest most of the day to even work up enough energy to talk to the king.”

Patrik nodded. He understood the principles behind working magic, even if he couldn’t do it himself. Using magic required power, once that power was gone, it took time to restore it.

His master scratched his head, the firelight making his bald dome shine like a copper-bottomed pot. “I suppose I could transport myself to my sister Lianna’s place, rest there until my power returns, talk to the king, and then transport back. That way I’d only be gone a day at the most.” His voice held a puzzled tone. It wasn’t like Allard to be unsure of himself. He turned to stare at his apprentice. “Do you think you can keep yourself out of trouble for one day?”

Patrik nodded in solemn silence.

“Hmph!” snorted the wizard. “We’ll see.”

Chapter Three

Redwing approached Larkin as soon as he had finished singing in the sun. “I have an idea,” she said.

“Oh?”

“You seem to get in a lot of trouble because you haven’t learned to soar yet, and I thought maybe I could help.”

“You think you can?”

“Well, I’ve been watching you, and I think I know what you’re doing wrong.”

Larkin turned his muzzle to face her, his great yellow eyes blazing green with excitement. “Tell me.”

“I can’t tell you, I’ll have to show you. But first we have to get you up in the air.”

He dropped his head in disappointment. “I don’t know how to take off either,” he said.

“I know, I thought we could work on that too.”

“You’ll help me?”

“Sure, that’s what friends are for.”

He curled his snout back, in the dragon equivalent of a smile and his eyes whirled brightly. “That’s great!”

Larkin followed Redwing to the edge of the council area. A sharp cliff fell one hundred feet below them. They were surrounded by other dragonets that were practicing their take-offs and landings.

“Now watch me,” Redwing said.

She spread her wings, each scale on her body glowing like a finely cut ruby in the early morning sun. The young dragon then crouched into a squat, bunching up her body like a tightly coiled spring. “See how low to the ground I am?” she asked, turning her head toward Larkin.

“Yes.”

“That’s so you can use your legs to help you push off.”

“I see.”

“When you are as low as you can go, you then push your legs as hard as you can against the ground and jump up as high as you can.”

“Okay.”

“At the same time you jump, you push your wings down and then up very quickly.” She demonstrated the technique and was instantly airborne. Redwing circled once around the council area, and then performed a neat landing next to Larkin.

“Okay, now you try.”

Larkin’s forked tongue snaked out between his jaws. He licked his upper snout as he considered her challenge. Gathering up his courage, he finally said, “Okay.”

“Remember to scrunch down as low as you can.”

He did.

“Good, now spread your wings.”

He did that too.

“Excellent. Now push down, jump and flap all at the same time.”

A thrill of amazement turned his yellow eyes gold in the morning sun as Larkin found himself in the air.

“Wow,” he hollered down to Redwing. “That was terrific.”