Dragon Tears (9 page)

In the dim firelight, Patrik couldn’t tell what the wizard was thinking. He held his breath waiting for the man to make up his mind. “We need you to stay here, in case she circles back around,” he added.

“All right, get going. But use your head, boy. Don’t follow the trail into a cave, or a blind canyon, or any other place where you could be attacked without warning. By my beard, if anything happens to you, you’ll wish you were never born by the time I get through with you.”

Patrik swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing that the wizard’s threat was not just idle talk. He climbed onto Larkin and the three of them set off.

Riding the back of a dragon on the ground wasn’t anything like riding them in the air. Up in the sky, they soared and glided as graceful as any bird. On the ground, they lumbered like a cart with a lopsided wheel, heavy, awkward, and slow. Larkin’s great tail flopped back and forth like a beached sea creature jerking his body with every step, his great shoulders heaving up and down with each jolting step.

Patrik tried to hold onto the dragon’s neck ridges with hands that were slippery with rain. Time and again, he readjusted his position trying to find some place to sit that wasn’t hard and bony. The saddle designed for flying was useless on the ground. Its stirrups and harnesses, which prevented him from falling off in the air made this crawling gait pure torture as they strapped him into every bump, ridge, and spine that covered Larkin’s body.

The dragons crashed through the forest, their noses to the ground, following the scent as if they knew exactly where they were going. Patrik marveled that they could smell anything in all the rain, but they kept steadily plodding along without hesitation. Branches snapped in their wake and those that didn’t break off, slapped Patrik in the face and arms. His face was soon scratched and bleeding, but the dragons continued their hunt, not pausing or resting.

Patrik soon lost all sense of time. It seemed to him that they’d been searching for Rat for an eternity, and in the rain and the dark there was no way for him to determine how much time had elapsed. He grew more miserable with each lurching step. His hands were numb with cold, and holding on became a full-time chore.

Larkin’s neck ridges slipped from his fingers. His body followed, and he landed hard in a puddle on the forest floor. The dragon turned his head around and looked down at his friend. “You okay?”

“No! I’m wet, tired, and nearly frozen to death.”

“I’m cold too,” Larkin replied.

Patrik immediately felt guilty for complaining. He knew how much the dragons hated the cold, yet he hadn’t heard either one of them complain. He stood up and stroked the underside of Larkin’s chin. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know you’re doing the best you can.”

Larkin leaned into the caress, rubbing his great head against the boy’s chest. “We’ll find her. The scent is getting stronger, so we must be close.” The dragon knelt down so Patrik could climb on top.

Redwing led the way when they started again. Larger than Larkin, she blocked the view so that Patrik couldn’t see what made her stop suddenly, her whole body rigid with tension.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I think we found her.”

And Patrik could tell by the deep sorrow in the dragon’s voice that something was horribly wrong.

Chapter Eight

Patrik didn’t wait for Larkin to come to a full stop. He vaulted off the dragon’s back and ran toward the clearing where Redwing stood, her head lowered, sniffing something that lay on the ground before her. Even though the rain continued to pour down like water from a bucket, Patrik could see the dark red streams of blood that covered Rat’s side and face.

He knelt beside the animal, cradling her injured head in his lap, looking for some sign of life. Rat had always been a nuisance, but now, as he faced the possibility of losing her, he found himself begging her to live. “Come on, Rat. Please don’t die,” he said, stroking her head and ignoring the blood that covered his hands. “Please, Rat, please.”

A soft mew answered his pleas.

“She’s alive,” he hollered. “We have to get her back to camp. Wizard Allard will know how to help her.”

Later, Patrik wouldn’t be able to remember much of their trip back. His world narrowed down to two things: staying on Larkin’s back and keeping Rat from falling off. Both tasks difficult enough in good weather had become close to impossible in the pouring rain. He found himself time and again wishing for a better saddle, a harness, and a blanket. But none of those were at hand, so he clung to Rat with one hand and to Larkin’s neck ridges with the other, all the while pleading with Rat not to die.

Redwing arrived at camp first. “We found her,” she hollered as Larkin lumbered in with Patrik and Rat on his back.

Wizard Allard rushed from the lean-to, his face full of relief that quickly turned to concern as he saw the blood streaming down Larkin’s back.

“She’s hurt real bad,” Patrik said as Allard rushed across the campground. “I don’t know if she’ll make it.”

The wizard pulled Rat from Patrik’s arms and carried her to the lean-to. He didn’t waste any time speaking to the others but immediately began assessing her injuries. Digging in their pack, Allard pulled out a medical kit, and began washing the cat’s wounds. Patrik, Larkin, and Redwing crowded around the opening watching in a silent grief — the boy’s tears mixing with the rain and the dragons’ eyes whirling flashes of angry red and deep blue sorrow.

Patrik sat back on his heels and watched, wishing there was something he could do, but knowing that he’d just get in the way. “Is she going to make it?” he asked at last.

“I don’t know. Her facial wounds aren’t that bad, even though they did bleed a lot. But it’s the one on her side that I’m worried about. It’s deep, and if her stomach or lungs are injured it could be very serious.” He turned to Patrik, and said, “Get some dry clothes and start wiping as much water off of her as you can. Go gently, though.”

Patrik did as he was told, glad to have something to do, something that might help just a little. As he dried Rat, he watched the wizard stitch up the wound in her side and then bandage it.

The wizard spared the boy a glance and said, “She saved our lives, you know. If she hadn’t distracted that prowler away from us, neither one of us would be alive.”

Patrik swiped at his eyes trying to clear away the tears and the rain. “Can you save her?”

“I’m doing the best I can, boy. That’s all I can do. Time will tell.” The older man’s voice cracked and trembled with emotion.

“How…how much time?”

“Tonight’s critical. If she makes it through tonight, then her chances will be better tomorrow.”

“For now, that’s all I can do. Now we wait.” The wizard’s robes were covered with blood and rain. He looked down at them and grimaced. “I guess we can use these for more bandages,” he muttered. “They’re not good for much of anything else now.”

Rat’s head lay cushioned in Patrik’s lap, and the boy could only agree with the wizard as he looked up at him from the floor of their lean-to. “Mine aren’t in any better shape. Good thing we brought another set. I’ll change in the morning. For now, I think I’ll just sit here with her.”

“You take the first shift, then,” Allard said. “I’ll take the second.”

Patrik’s legs cramped into tight knots of pain as the night passed. But he refused to stretch them or move them, afraid the movement might cause Rat even greater discomfort. He could feel her soft breaths on his hand as he stroked her muzzle, but other than that, she gave no indication that she was alive. When the wizard finally approached him to take over the sickbed watch, Patrik could hardly stand. With the gentleness of one handling a newborn, Patrik slid Rat’s head onto the wizard’s lap, and tried to get to his feet. His knotted muscles refused to cooperate and he teetered on legs that felt on fire. Moving slowly, he found an unoccupied corner of the lean-to and fell immediately into an exhausted sleep.

The sun shone in bright streamers through the trees when Patrik awoke. The wizard still cradled Rat’s head in his lap.

“Has she moved?” he asked.

“Just once,” Allard replied. “I got up and got her some water. She drank it. That’s a very good sign. I would have been really worried if she had refused it.”

A smile as bright as the morning sun lit the boy’s face. “Then she’ll make it?”

“It’s still too early to tell for sure, but I think so.”

Larkin poked his head into the lean-to, causing Patrik to squeeze up against its sides. “How’s she doing?” he asked.

“Better I think,” the wizard replied.

“Do we want to rest here today, or continue on?” the dragon asked.

The wizard blew out a deep breath between pursed lips. “I really don’t think she should be moved so soon, but we still have a long way to go. Every day counts if we’re going to stop the war in time.”

Redwing poked her head inside the lean-to next to Larkin’s and now there was absolutely no room inside it. Patrik found himself standing half inside and half outside with the sun shining hotly on his backside.

“I heard what you said,” she commented, “and I think we have no choice but to keep on going.”

“Then we’ll have to figure out a way to carry her,” Patrik said.

“We’ll have to make some sort of sling and tie it to Larkin’s harness,” the wizard said. “Is that okay with you?” he asked the dragon.

Larkin nodded. “But how will you fashion this sling?”

“That’s a good question,” the wizard replied. They had used every spare scrap of leather, even dismantling perfectly good saddles in order to create saddles and harnesses large enough to fit the two dragons.

Patrik nibbled on his lower lip, thinking. “We could use the robes that got ruined last night,” he said at last.

Allard thought this over for a few minutes. “That might work. Are they dry yet?”

They had hung the ruined clothing over some bushes, letting the rain wash away the worst of the blood and mud that had covered them.

“I’ll check,” Patrik said, squeezing out the back side of the lean-to. He re-entered the same way, his arms full of damp robes, which he handed to the wizard.

Allard shooed the two dragons out of the way, laid his robe flat on the ground, and then with gentle carefulness moved Rat into the center of the cloth. He gathered up the four corners of the robe, forming a cradle around the injured animal and tied them together in a huge knot. The wizard then pulled the knotted robe up to his chest, surveying his work. “I think this might work. We can loop the knotted end over Larkin’s saddle horn, and let her hang down along his flank,” he said to Patrik.

Rat mewed from her strange new bed, and the boy rushed to her side. He stroked her head and she opened her eyes. “Here,” the wizard said, holding out a cup to the boy, “give her some more water.”

Patrik held the cup under Rat’s nose. The injured animal sniffed it once and then darted her pink tongue into the cup. She slowly lapped up the water until it was half-empty. When she laid her head back down, he handed the cup to the wizard and smiled. “She’s getting better already, isn’t she?”

“It looks that way, but we still need to keep her quiet for a few days. Let’s get on with it, boy.”

They broke camp and were airborne in less than half a sunmark. The sun beat down on the dragons’ backs and they spread their wings wide to catch every bit of the warm morning sun. “That feels so good,” Larkin said to Patrik, as the dragon rode the currents. The boy smiled knowing how much his friend hated the cold, and finding a simple pleasure in knowing his friend was happy.

Redwing had copied Larkin’s actions, and Patrik, glancing over at her, could tell she was also enjoying the sun’s warmth. Larkin didn’t seem to have any problem carrying Rat on his flank instead of his back, and they continued their westward course throughout the morning.

They made one brief rest stop around midmorning, and Patrik again offered Rat a cup of water. This time she lapped it up with quick, eager strokes of her tongue; when he reached out a hand to pet her head she leaned into the caress.

Another rest stop at mid-afternoon went without incident, and they remounted and were airborne within just a few minutes. Patrik looked at the sun on the western horizon and figured they could fly for another couple of sunmarks before having to set down for the day. His mind wandered as they flew.

He was worried. Worried about Rat, worried about what they would do when they got to the Sea of Lights, worried about how they would find the dragon king, and worried about what they would say to convince him to help them. He was so worried about these things that at first he didn’t notice that the knot on Rat’s sling was beginning to slip.

It wasn’t until the sling jerked downward an inch or so that it caught his attention. He looked down, puzzled by the movement, and then focused his gaze on the knot on the saddle horn. One corner had freed itself, and a second one wasn’t far behind. He leaned forward and grabbed for it. Bent over the saddle, his hands securely on the sling, he let go of his safety straps.

A gust of wind buffeted the dragons, and Larkin jerked upward against it. Patrik, without his safety straps, was thrown loose. His screams filled the sky as he plummeted downward. Redwing dived through the air. Wings flattened against her body, she aimed for the boy. Wizard Allard clung to her back while Larkin watched his friends plummeting to their deaths, unable to help with Rat on his back.

When the knot on Rat’s sling slipped another notch, Larkin turned his great head around only to discover that Rat was now hanging by only two diagonal corners. The dragon gathered up the two loose corners in his teeth, and tried to figure out how he was going to land with his head bent sideways.

Patrik’s screams cut off as abruptly as they had begun, for the boy simply shut his mouth. There didn’t appear to be any reason to scream any longer as no one could help him now, and his throat was getting raw. The wind rushed past him, clearing his mind. He was amazed at the clarity of his thoughts and how knowing that he was going to die put everything into perspective. All the things that had worried him a few minutes before now seemed trivial.