Becoming a Dragon (43 page)

A whole six weeks of the term had passed and the long weekend was finally upon them; Crystal was looking forward to their trip to her family's holiday home. Seth's suggestion of visiting a cousin of his in the West would have been far more exciting, with nightly parties guaranteed, but she was not surprised that both her, Jenna's and even the twins' parents had all said no. Their memories of their own misconduct in their youth was enough to know what their children might get up to, as in the West anything might happen. They were much more willing to allow them to visit her family home, especially as there would be a responsible adult there in the shape of their housekeeper, Mrs Mason.

It would be quite a long flight, but an easy one, and having John with them gave all of their parents' peace of mind. The twins' parents might have thought differently had they known he was seeing Daisy, but amazingly the two of them had managed to keep it from them so far. In the eyes of their parents, as a pseudo teacher, John was the next best thing to a chaperone, even in the eyes of Gerald, whose sister he was seeing. Remarkably, despite the ill-fated camping trip, he had consented to let them cross the country without their bodyguards, agreeing that as this was something he so regularly dispensed with himself, he could hardly insist that they had to be guarded all the time.

They left Furnace early in the morning, planning on having a lunch break halfway through their journey before arriving in the late afternoon. Her family's holiday home was to the north east of Black Rock, in a timber area in the midst of some beautiful valleys. Walking there when she was young had been delightful, but flying over them would be even better.

Crystal had left the planning of the route to John, as he told her that he had travelled through the region a number of times. He flew high above them all as they travelled, where he could keep an eye on them. Crystal managed to hide her mild irritation at his nannyish approach, knowing only too well that he meant well.

Their flight was uneventful, but highly memorable, seeing the country in a way she had never experienced before. When she had travelled home for the end of term break her mother had chosen a very direct route that was quite dull, and they had stayed low for the whole journey, concerned about Crystal's proficiency in the air. John not only chose a more scenic route, he also preferred them all to fly relatively high, as they could see further and it provided a tactical advantage in the extremely unlikely possibility of encountering Blue Dragons. Crystal didn't mind this at all, feeling relatively confident in her flying ability and enjoying the incredible views of the countryside that it provided on this clear, sunny morning.

As planned, they reached a small trading town at midday where they stopped for lunch. Crystal's maid, Janet, was from the town, something she was embarrassed to have to learn from John, and she had recommended an inn for lunch.

The food there was surprisingly good, with a variety of meats available far surpassing that available in most of the places she had visited in Furnace or even where she had grown up in Black Rock. The twins seemed less impressed; apparently in the West they were more used to a greater variety of food. As always, John was unreadable, but Jenna and Seth were as appreciative as she was.

Crystal had learnt that eating well didn't adversely affect either transformation or flying—a fact she was glad of as she left the inn feeling a little bloated, a feeling that left as soon as she started to transform.

What would happen if you were to remain a dragon all day?
she asked John as they flew.
Would you need to eat less?

No,
he replied.
You will find your appetite increases. Despite having tried to clear out that inn's larder, you will find that you still have a healthy appetite when we arrive.

Crystal ignored his comment, secretly a little pleased that he occasionally tried to tease her; it made him seem a little more normal. She wondered if little Daisy ever got bored of his company with his formal way of speaking and serious outlook. If she did she would never admit it as she was far too nice for that.

The countryside should have become more familiar to her as they approached her family's holiday home, but everything looked very different from up here. She was glad John was here to navigate as she would have found it very hard not to get them lost, which would have been quite embarrassing. John had tried to explain navigation to her but so far very little was sticking. Her attitude to his teaching her may have changed but her ability was yet to catch up. Fortunately, his patience appeared to be unlimited. Indeed, despite her complete lack of interest, he had soldiered on through all of the dullest topics over the last few weeks, although it had to be said that Daisy's apparently totally genuine interest in these subjects made it more bearable for them both. They had now completed Red Dragon history, politics, culture, war and combat and had therefore progressed quickly through John's topics. Transformation and flying were covered by John's lessons at school, so they only had three lessons left: their neighbours and other races, other foreign relations and the promised final lesson. Crystal could tolerate any amount of dullness to finally have that lesson.

John indicated that it was time to descend long before they were at their destination, making a very gentle approach to the village. She doubted he would have done the same on his own, knowing his famed diving ability. As they neared the ground, a number of landmarks became familiar to her: childhood haunts and places her family frequented on picnics and long, lazy walks. It saddened her to think this was probably completely behind her; now that she could transform, going for a walk would be pointless.

Crystal, please lead the way from here; I do not know the town well,
John instructed.

She wondered how he knew it at all.
Of course, follow me, I will lead the way,
she declared proudly.

Crystal pointed out any and every point of interest on the way, pleased to have something that she knew better than everyone else, especially John. Jenna of course was as familiar with the places as Crystal was, but for once didn't try to steal her glory.

Finally, they reached the house. As soon as they landed and transformed, their housekeeper, who was very fond of Crystal, rushed out to greet them.

"Crystal, look at you, so grown up and flying! You're a proper lady now. I expect it won't be long before you'll be coming here with your own little ones!"

"Mrs Mason! I'm only sixteen. That won't be happening for a long time. If ever!"

"Of course, dear. Silly me. You just look so grown up, although perhaps a little adjustment here…"

She reached over to Crystal's shoulder where she hadn't properly tied her clothes after transforming, and was unaware that she was in danger of losing her top.

"Thank you," she murmured quietly, hoping no one else had noticed. "I need a little more practice with these clothes."

Mrs Mason just smiled and pinched her cheek affectionately before picking up hers and Jenna's bags and carrying them into the house. She and her friends followed her in.

"Alright, Jenna, you know where your room is," Crystal said as they entered the hall. "This house isn't that large, but there is a room each, so there'll be no need for any sharing. Mrs Mason has put the boys on one side of the house and the girls on the other. She knows you two are from the West so wants me to point out that she doesn't want you two wandering over to the wrong side of the house in the middle of the night."

"Hey!" Daisy objected, blushing indignantly, "I'm not like that, and John isn't either. And neither is Arthur. Tell her, Arthur!"

"She's winding you up, Daisy," Arthur reassured her. "I think everyone who has met either you or John would know you're not like that."

"I find it hard to believe you're from the West at all," Jenna commented drily.

Daisy glared at her. "I expect people sometimes mistakenly think you're from the West though, don't they?"

Jenna opened her mouth in shock. Little Daisy answering back! "Wait a minute, Daisy—"

"Alright, that's enough," Crystal interrupted. "Go and change for dinner. It will be served soon."

Daisy glared at them both before picking up her bag and stomping up the stairs. The boys headed for the other staircase. As soon as they were out of earshot, Jenna and Crystal started giggling.

"I think that's the first time I've seen Daisy get angry," Crystal said.

"It's like being attacked by a kitten," Jenna replied. "She has a long way to go before she grows any real claws. Still, it wasn't me who she should have been cross with.
You
started it."

"I was trying to goad John, really. Shouldn't have bothered really. He didn't react at all."

"Never does. He's like a machine; never gets upset. Well, apart from that time you were rude to him when he looked like he was dying after having saved your life…"

"Jenna! That was mean! He's forgiven me. Why do you have to remind me of that? You know I feel bad about it."

Jenna pouted and shrugged. "I saw you laugh at Daisy's comment." She flexed her fingers. "Remember, I
do
have claws!" She laughed and headed up the stairs after Daisy.

Crystal just shook her head and sighed before following after her.

Eleven years earlier, a young Perak was studying in the military academy.

"Perak! Are you listening, boy?"

Perak looked up at his maths teacher, trying to work out what he was being asked, having been caught in a day-dream. "Yes, sir. I'm listening."

"Good. I'm glad we have your full attention. I'd hate to think you'd been selected out of thousands of students for this opportunity and you weren't making the most of it."

Perak nodded, fully alert now. "No, of course not, sir."

The teacher nodded, still frowning at him. "Good, I expect there would be plenty of other nine-year-olds who would gladly take your place. As I was explaining, you've been assigned one of the new students. One of the redheads. You're to go and meet him when he arrives at the school and take further instructions from the officer accompanying him. Go now!"

Perak reluctantly rose to his feet. Why they had these ridiculous creatures here at all was beyond him. They were tainted, beyond all hope of ever achieving anything good. The best they could hope for was a good death fighting the very race their mothers came from.

Perak sat down on a large stone outside the school, looking to the sky for the arrival of the new student. He wondered who would be accompanying the boy; probably some junior conscript with little better to do. This was an elite school for those destined for fast track promotion and with the potential to become the nation's future generals. Taking on babysitting duties for the purples was surely beneath him.

A loud screech announced the boy's arrival, but Perak was surprised to see not one but five dragons flying towards him. He stood up to attention, amazed that they would waste so much effort on this boy. The dragons landed and began transforming, and Perak was even more amazed to see that one of them was a senior officer. He approached Perak, who stood to attention when he neared.

"Perak, is it?" Perak nodded. "Good. I've been looking forward to meeting you. I've been reading through your reports and test scores, and have chosen you personally for this task. Does that surprise you?"

"Um, yes. It does, sir," Perak stammered in reply, wondering where the boy was.

"As I expected. My name is General Zygar, and I've been following this boy's progress for a long time now. You see, this is no ordinary boy, Perak, and this is no ordinary task I am giving you. This isn't one of your purples, as people are so fond of calling them—although I'm keen for everyone to continue thinking that he is, for his and the mission's safety."

"He's not a purple?" Perak asked, now thoroughly confused.

Zygar bent down to look Perak in the eye. "No, Perak. He isn't," he replied softly. "He thinks he is, and I'm happy to leave it that way for a few years, but no, he's something else." He paused and smiled at Perak in a self-satisfied way. "Can you guess what he is?"

Perak shook his head.

"He's a Red Dragon," Zygar whispered. Perak stepped back, tripping over the stone that he had been sitting on. He was too amazed to speak.

The General laughed quietly. "I thought you'd be surprised. Why would we have a Red Dragon amongst us? Who would even believe it possible? Do you have any idea why he's here?"

Perak shook his head, not knowing what to say.

Zygar nodded, unsurprised. "He believes that he is one of us. When he gets older, it will be explained to him that his parents abandoned him, and he was rescued by our men, who then brought him up, hiding his heritage from him to protect him. He's already fiercely loyal, hatred of his own race fully ingrained into his way of thinking. When he is older, he will be sent back to his own country, but as our spy; our eyes and ears inside the Red Kingdom, searching out all of their little secrets and speeding along their downfall. Because yes, this will be their downfall. Within fifteen years, we will say goodbye to our red neighbours, and by the time your grandchildren are born, they won't know what a Red Dragon is. And that will be all made possible by what you are going to do for me now."

"What's that, sir?" Perak asked.

"This boy will need a friend; someone like a wise older brother to help guide him as he grows. Someone to make sure that he excels in school, that his love for his adopted country and hatred for his native country never waivers. Someone like you. He's three years younger than you, which I think is the perfect age gap. Now, we've been lucky with this boy; he's a quick learner, and his parents were both tall and attractive—traits that will help him back in the perverse culture he will be trying to re-enter. But you...you will have to help him. One of my officers will be in regular contact with you to ensure that you have all of the support that you need. Do you understand, Perak? Can I rely on you?"

Perak nodded, still a little overwhelmed.

Zygar looked to the horizon where a distant dragon was just visible. "Here he comes now. His hair has been dyed blue, and he will need to ensure that he keeps the red hidden all the time."

"What's his name, sir?" Perak asked.

"His real name, or the name that he will use here?" the officer replied. "The name that everyone else will use and the only name he knows is Malick. Of course, this isn't a Red Dragon name, but one we have given him. He won't be able to use Malick when he returns as a spy. His real name, the one his parents gave him and that he will adopt when he returns is to remain a secret, although I think I can tell you. That name is Jerome."

Two years later, Perak called on Malick, knocking loudly on his bedroom door.

Malick opened the door, looking a little surprised to see him. "Hello, Perak. What are you doing here?"

Perak had called on him just two days earlier, and rarely visited him more than once a week.

"There's something you need to do, Malick," Perak told him, his voice serious. "It's not a pleasant task, but you'll agree how necessary it is."

"What is it?" Malick asked.

Perak nodded towards the cloak hanging on the wall. "Get your cloak; I'll explain on the way. We need to go to the court house. The task involves a Red Dragon, and although unpleasant, this is a task that you should recognise as an honour. Eventually, anyway. Come with me."

A short while later, Perak and Malick entered the court house by the main entrance, but once they reached the courtroom a man ushered them in through a side door, and they remained out of sight near the back.

Eventually, the doors at the back swung open, and two guards burst into the court room, leading the prisoner by heavy chains. She was a young woman with bright red hair, looking at the ground as she entered, avoiding the angry stares of the crowd gathered to watch the proceedings, offering no resistance as she was led to the stand. Her red hair was neatly brushed and tied into a pony tail, and around her neck they could see a metal ring with a series of triangular points facing into her neck. This was the infamous restraint they used for enemy prisoners; transform, and they'd be decapitated. Perak wondered hopefully whether they'd get a chance to see that today.

The judge rose and began addressing the court, explaining what the prisoner was accused of: the murder of non-combatants in a particularly brutal raid that took place a little over seven years ago in a town called Issa. This was a famous case where most of the dead were women and children, and all had been savagely slaughtered. Many in the stands were relatives of the deceased, and this was the first time they had seen this woman—the only person to stand trial for this atrocity. The prisoner was not referred to by her name, but her number: prisoner 217.

The judge asked her whether she, prisoner 217, did indeed take part in this raid, specifying the date and location of the attack. She nodded and told the court that she admitted it.

The judge then asked if she was given any orders to spare any of the women and children, to which she confirmed that she wasn't. The judge then asked her whether during the attack, she killed any non-combatants, and she admitted that she had. Boos and hisses rang out throughout the court, but the prisoner merely stared at the floor.

"Now, prisoner 217," the judge continued. "Tell me, if your people ever caught an enemy who had committed these crimes against your own people—killing pregnant women, children, even babies—would you let them live?"

Prisoner 217 shook her head and mumbled something incomprehensible.

"Louder, prisoner 217; we can't hear you."

"No, sir," she replied.

"In fact, if you caught any prisoner, any that had fought against you and surrendered, would you let them live in a comfortable, secure cell where they are well fed and not mistreated? Have you ever heard of something like that happening?"

"No, sir," prisoner 217 replied.

"No indeed. And that is the case with you, is it not, prisoner 217? Is it true that you been well treated? Have you been kept safe from revenge attacks from the families of your victims, safe from torture, rape, murder—all things that anyone could rightly understand these families wanting to inflict upon you? This is the case, is it not, prisoner 217?"

"It is true," she replied, her head hung in shame.

"We have been merciful, prisoner 217," the judge continued, "but the right to decide whether to free you or not rests with the families of the victims, and they have unanimously demanded that you pay the price for your crimes, that you finally receive the justice you deserve so that they can finally try and find peace so long denied them. Your punishment is execution, stayed so long due to the mercy of our great leader, but now to be administered immediately and in the court to avoid the cruelty of making both sides wait any longer. Before we proceed, I understand that you have a last request; is that correct, prisoner 217?"

"Yes, your honour."

"You understand the conditions of meeting this request?"

She nodded sadly.

"Very well. Gag her and bind her," the judge ordered. Two uniformed guards carried out the order, which was not resisted.

"Young man, come forwards," the judge ordered, but speaking kindly.

Perak ushered Malick forwards, bringing him into the centre of the court. They both faced the judge.

"Do you the accused freely admit your crimes, and that you deserve your fate, and that we have mercifully granted your last request?"

She nodded, looking at Malick with tears running down her face. Perak knew what request she had made, to see Malick, but he wouldn't know, and he wouldn't have been able to understand why she looked at him the way she did.

"Now, as dictated by the wish of the relatives, you who murdered children and must be executed by a child."

Perak stepped forwards, brandishing a long knife coated in a sticky, black liquid. The prisoner met his eyes, which were cold and empty of emotion. Her own eyes were filled with dread, trembling at the sight of the weapon.

He stood a metre away from her, staring at her with loathing before he turned to face the judge, the prisoner now to his left. He held out the knife in front of him before turning to Malick. "Do it now," he said quietly. "Quickly, as we agreed."

Malick suddenly ran forwards, taking the knife from Perak's outstretched hand and plunging it into the prisoner's stomach, glaring up into her face where she met his glare with a mixture of surprise and utter despondency. He let go of the knife and stepped backwards, looking confused by her expression. Perak put his hand on his shoulder.

"You did well," he whispered, pulling him back.  The prisoner dropped to her knees, putting one hand on the ground for support.

"But she's still alive," Malick replied.

Perak shook his head. "She's dead already; her body just hasn't realised it yet. The knife was coated in poison. It will kill her slowly, and very painfully."

Malick looked at the prisoner, who was still looking at him, tears flowing down her face.

"If it's so painful, why doesn't she scream?"

"She can't," Perak replied. "Even without that gag. A side effect of the poison. Come, it will get very unpleasant. You won't want to watch."

Malick shook him off. "That's where you're wrong. She's a monster and deserves what she's getting. You told me that, remember?"

Perak smiled and nodded. "That's right, I did. Let us watch together."

The prisoner collapsed on the floor, straining against her bonds, her face twisted by silent screams.

"What was her name?" Malick asked.

"Oh, Anna," Perak replied. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Malick replied. "She looked at me as if she recognised me, that's all. Is that possible?"

Perak shook his head, trying to suppress a cruel smile. "No, she was no one to you. You are one of us, remember?"

Malick nodded. "That I will never forget. Thank you, brother, for giving me this honour."