The Dragons of Noor (15 page)

Hanna wanted to say,
How can I find something when I don’t know what they’re looking for?

“Try and sleep now,” he said, before pulling back.

Hanna blinked up at the stars glittering between the sapling’s leaves. She
was
very tired, and she missed her dreams. It had been over a month since the ancient trees
on Enness fell. The first week she’d paced with Mother, both of them too upset over Tymm to go to bed, then there was the wakeful time on Great-Uncle Enoch’s boat, and later the long, stormy voyage on the
Leena
when she’d been too seasick to sleep much at all—too ill to dream—at least she
hoped
that was why her nights aboard the
Leena
had been completely dreamless.

The Dragon Queen hovered in very close, so Hanna could see hundreds of jagged bronze lines etched across her chest. The battle wounds looked like scrawls cut deep in tree bark, though this tree was a living dragon. The rest of the dragons shuffled in to watch. The great heads lowered. Heated breath poured across her body.

Hanna closed her eyes, reached in her pocket, and gripped Great-Uncle Enoch’s vial of tears.
The Kanameer will know what to do with them
. Where was this Kanameer she was pretending to be?

Waves pounded the shore. Eyes still closed, she imagined the sound was the dragons’ heartbeats as they glared at her, snouts down.

Hanna let go of the small brown bottle and sat up. “Please, can you back away a little?” she begged.

The Damusaun huffed out smoke, then ordered the
others to step away, though she did not move very far back herself.

Hanna tried again. She shut her eyes.
eOwey, help me sleep, help me dreamwalk
. She’d never asked for her power, but the Falconer had said she’d been born with the gift for a reason. If that were so, she needed her power back. Breathing deep, she tried to relax. She thought of Tymm, his contagious laugh as he repaired broken fences in the sheep pen for Da, his deep concentration as he pieced together broken dishes in Mother’s kitchen. When nothing needed mending, Tymm’s swift hands were usually making something new, weaving mouse cages or crafting little wooden toys with his friend Cilla.

She thought of the Othic words he’d said before he was Wind-taken.
Tesha yoven
. Bind the broken. Her eyes were full of Tymm running through the hills, his blond head bobbing above the tall grass.
Tesha yoven:
Tymm’s words, the chant the High Meer had asked Miles to say in meditation. Breathe in Tesha. Breathe out Yoven. She did this five times, six. Breathe in Tesha, breathe out …

Roses, red and yellow, growing on a green hill. She was flying over a garden with the wind spirit, Wild Esper. Hanna looked down. Wild Esper’s scales flashed as she
pumped her wings. Not Wild Esper. She was on the Damusaun’s back. They circled the roses that were wavering, growing higher. Taunier, on a dragon’s back beside her, was shouting, waving his arms.

They flew closer in. Not roses. Fire! Islands of red and yellow fire, like the ones she’d seen floating on the sea. Not a green hill, but a mountain filled with towering blue-needled azure trees. People running below screaming, shouting. Some with bows, some with axes.

The Damusaun joined more dragons roaring fire. Taunier waved his arms and drew the flames into a wall. It grew along the mountainside, separating the men from the azure trees.

The dragon circled over the grove with Taunier astride, arms out, keeping the fire wall in place. No folk below were harmed. No trees burned. Still, the men ran screaming as they fired their crossbows at the dragons.

Thwack!
The sudden sound came from below. A spiked ball hurtled past and struck the terrow dragon on Hanna’s left. The dragon let out a high-pitched wail as the impact thrust her backward. She doubled over, spiraling down. Hanna cried out in her dream, but her mouth made no sound. She searched the smoky hills below. Where were
the spiked balls coming from? In the undergrowth she spotted four men hefting another metal ball onto the long wooden arm of an enormous weapon. She tried to scream a warning; again no sound came.

Thwack!
A second ball sped skyward. The Damusaun lurched back and crumpled inward. Blood spattered across Hanna’s face. The sky spun. Smoke. Burning. Blood. She was falling, falling …

T
he seals swam toward the tiny sparks of light glinting along the far shore. Bonfires to guide boats in, Miles guessed. But as they came nearer, the pod darted between dozens of sharp rock outcroppings, too treacherous for ships.

On the faraway beach, sheer cliffs rose up from the sand. No welcome place to land even if a ship made it that far. That meant the fires weren’t beacon fires at all, unless they were the work of pirates who meant to cause shipwreck so they could go after the plunder.

Eason was cautious. “Take us to the rock there, will you?” The meers were cold and tired, but they’d have to find a safer cove if pirates were waiting on the beach.

Miles swam in a little closer with the pod until he saw who’d set the bonfires.

Dragons.

Nearly twenty taberrells and terrows were lined up along the base of the high cliffs. They were so still Miles thought they might be statues guarding an ancient dragon ruin. Then he saw a tail flip up. The turquoise scales along the tip gleamed.

The other seals began to swim away as fast as flippers and tail allowed.

Miles croaked, “Wait.”

Black eyes and black noses turned toward him inquiringly. Then Meer Kanoae saw the two human forms Miles had spotted by the bonfires. “It’s Hanna and Taunier,” she gasped. “Alive!”

“We’ve found them,” said Meer Eason in awe. “You brought us to them, Miles!”

Miles warmed to his teacher’s praise. “We need to swim in closer,” said Kanoae, “find out what’s going on.”

The group paddled through the bay. They were near enough to the beach to be seen now if they weren’t careful, so the seals and riders kept their heads down, moving silently in rhythm with the water. At the next rock
outcropping, the meers climbed onto the jutting stone and hid with Breal behind a rough barrier.

Miles swished his tail and kept to the water. He fixed his eyes on Hanna. She was speaking to the dragons. Her words were clear enough when he could hear them above the waves.

“I rode the wind, or so I thought.” Hanna gripped Taunier’s arm and leaned into him. “But when I looked down in my dreamwalk, I saw I was riding the Damusaun.”

A wave tumbled in, covering her next words.

“…   fire,” Hanna was saying. “The people below were running and screaming. Taunier was in the air, flying beside me on his dragon. He was herding fire to keep the men with axes away from the azure trees when—”

Another wave. Curse this tide!

Miles watched the she-dragon who’d carried Hanna and Taunier away from the
Leena
lower her head, her cheek flaps dangling from her jaws like long, ornamental purses. “You saw truth in your dreamwalk. We guard the Waytrees here near the place where the World Tree fell.” The dragon’s voice was louder than Hanna’s and carried well over the water.

“All was safe in these ancient azure groves until last
year, when Whirl Storms destroyed the great city of Kanayar. The King of Kanayar hungered for the tallest timber in Noor to rebuild his city. He broke the age-old treaty between men and dragons, and sent his Cutters to our woods.”

The other dragons made an angry, rumbling noise. Miles felt the sound cross his sealskin, as if his black hide were a drum.

The Damusaun raised her wing to quiet them. “The Kanayaran king did not want those in other lands to know he’d broken his treaty,” said the she-dragon. “He sent his border guards to the Boundary Waters to keep other folk away.”

And to kill them if they tried to cross
, Miles thought bitterly.

The Damusaun stepped closer to Hanna. “The king’s Cutters use saws and axes and root poison to fell azures and harvest the timber. There is only one grove left here on Mount Olone. We fight to save the Waytrees that bind the two worlds.”

Meer Kanoae sucked in a loud breath. “So,” she said, “the dragons are on our side. I’m glad now I didn’t use my harpoon.”

Miles tensed, wondering if the dragons had heard
the remark, but the waves seemed to have covered it. He sighed, relieved. He wasn’t sure what his next move should be. He would wait a little longer here in the dark.

A wave hissed on shore and drew away. The Damusaun’s large, triangular head hovered above Hanna and Taunier.

“We told the King of Kanayar and his manling Cutters that the ancient Waytrees are bound together. If they poisoned the azure roots and chopped them down, other Waytrees of Noor would fall. We warned him of the terrible damage that would come to both Noor and Oth. But the King and his Cutters are dragon-deaf!” She lifted her head and breathed red fire. The other dragons on the beach did the same, until the red flames nearly obscured the black cliffs behind them.

Miles felt the dragons’ anger, remembered the Waytrees falling, the deyas dying in Othlore Wood, and made his decision. With a flick of his tail, he entered the next wave heading for shore.

“Miles?” called Eason. “What are you doing?”

He knew the meers would need the seals’ help to swim in, but he gave no signal yet. He would see how safe it was first. Pulling himself from the pounding surf, he
struggled along the wet sand. His seal’s body that was so lithe and graceful in the sea felt heavy and unwieldy now, as if he were weighted down with stones and wrapped tightly in a wet cloak. He wriggled toward the gathering, the heat of the bonfires crossing his slick sealskin. He rested a moment behind a black boulder. The dragons hadn’t noticed him yet, but they’d soon catch his scent. He focused on Hanna, working up his courage.

T
he dragons’ fiery breath heated the night air, tightening the skin on Hanna’s cheeks. In spite of this, she felt chilled. They were of one mind about the Waytrees, but what about the Wind-taken? Had the dragons seen the stolen children in Jarrosh? Did they know where the east wind had taken them, and why? She had to approach the questions with care. The Damusaun expected the Kanameer to be knowledgeable, not uncertain.

Another thing troubled her. She hadn’t found the courage to tell the dragons the rest of her dreamwalk, the terrible weapon she’d seen.

Thriss leaped from Taunier’s shoulder to hers and
flicked her tail. Hanna stroked the hatchling under her chin. She would start by telling them the queen was in danger. She had to pass on the warning before she asked them to help her find Tymm and the others.

“There was more in my dreamwalk, Damusaun. The men had a weapon, a trebuchet, I think.” She frowned, remembering the device. “They used it to shoot large spiked balls into the air.”

Hanna stopped, took a breath. “One of the spiked balls knocked a terrow from the sky. And then—”

She paused a second time, wiping her cheek with her sleeve, as if the queen’s blood were still there.

“Tell us the rest,” said the Damusaun. The bonfires on the beach washed bronze light across the she-dragon’s attentive eyes. Hanna saw herself reflected in the queen’s slit pupils.

She dropped her gaze to the battle scars on the Dragon Queen’s chest, like ancient script. “I was flying on your back, Damusaun. You were hit.”

The dragons on the beach roared in protest. The queen wrapped her tail about her feet, and terrows stepped up on either side. The she-dragon shone between her sentries like an emerald in a golden crown.

Since the moment the dragons had stolen them from the ship, Hanna had been afraid of the Damusaun. But her dreamwalk had joined them in some way. Now she was afraid
for
her. If bloody death were waiting for the queen, and if this attack was waiting for her, too …

“Look.” Taunier pointed at a seal making its way awkwardly toward the fire. It must be a very brave seal to leave the safety of the waves and approach so many dragons. Hanna was about to turn back to the Damusaun when the seal held up its flipper and waved. The seal’s gesture was so comically human that Hanna laughed. But her laughter caught in her mouth when the seal began to change.

A low rumble came from the dragons’ throats. Taunier gripped Hanna’s arm as the seal’s body grew long and lean, as the tail split into legs and the flippers thinned and lengthened into arms. Hanna held her breath. At last the boy rolled over, got onto his knees, and stood shakily before them.

“Miles!” Joy and fear combined in that one word, joy because her brother was alive, fear because the last time the dragons had seen him, they’d set his giant falcon’s wing aflame. Did they know it was Miles who’d attacked them in falcon form?

Still, nothing could keep her from racing down the beach and throwing her arms around her brother. Taunier ran up and thumped Miles on the back. He was cold and wet, and his dripping clothes smelled of seaweed, but that didn’t matter at all. He was alive. Hanna drew back and looked at her brother. How had he come here? Where were the others? What about Breal? Where was the
Leena?
She felt the dragons waiting behind her.

Face them. Speak
.

But before she could say a word, Kaleet snarled, “Shape-shifter.”

There was a rattle of displeasure in his voice, and she heard low-toned agreement from the one-eyed male and the rest of the elder dragons.
Why did Miles have to shape-shift here on the beach right in front of them?
Hanna wondered.

She cleared her throat. “This is my brother, Miles. He’s on our side.” The words dulled in the wind.
Our side
. Did the dragons understand what she meant by that?