Dragon Rigger (61 page)

Windrush felt, looking down upon it and perceiving only blackness and depth, that it was not a simple physical abyss like the drop-off of the Amethyst Cliffs, staggering though that drop was. This seemed more like an opening from this realm to some other, to some lightless place that might be another universe, or might be something else altogether. He wondered if Tar-skel lived, still, somewhere beyond that empty darkness. Windrush shivered at the thought, and hoped that the answer was no.

Maybe someone, someday, would explore the depths of that rift to assure them that Tar-skel was gone forever. But he didn't think it would be dragons. That was not a dragon place. It smelled alien, cold and distant.

He had ordered a guard along the length of the rift, and thought that they would be wise to keep it guarded forever, or for as long as the race of dragons lived, anyway. Who knew what might come up through this opening in the weave of their realm, one day? He had an unsettling feeling that the dragons might never again be quite so isolated in their own realm as they once had been.

He kept these thoughts to himself, for now. The others had enough to think about already. As they flew on toward the Mountain, leaving the rift behind, he felt his heart lightening. At that moment, Ar and Ed rematerialized on his shoulders.
You
were not gone long,
he said to Ar, noting that the parrot was asleep on Ar's shoulder.
Are
you sure you would not like to rest a little more, while you can? Were you not very tired?

The tall rigger's eyes glinted with purple light.
Perhaps I will, after we've reached the Dream
Mountain,
Windrush. Perhaps I'll be able to rest then. Just now I don't think I can. I don't want to miss a thing. And I
—His voice broke sharply, and he seemed unable to finish his thought.

You long to
speak with Jael again?
Windrush murmured.

The rigger nodded.

Yes, said the dragon. Yes, he whispered again, to himself. And he found himself flying just a little faster, without meaning to, just a little higher and faster toward the vast, translucent peak that was steadily growing before them.

* * *

In the continuing musical presence of the draconae, Jael found a kind of silence, a solitude of peace among those who bore so much knowledge and so much passion. She wasn't sure yet what she thought of life in the Dream Mountain; it would take a long time to explore it fully. She hoped that the weavings of power that gave her life here would give her the time to do so.

With the final fulfillment of the Words, the tone of the draconae's music had changed—had become not just joyous and uplifting, but filled with a fury of creative energy. The Forge of Dreams had been opened to the realm once more, by Lavafire and the others. But now, instead of being tightly woven into protective magic, the light and power were being spun out into the realm, restoring and healing the land. Somewhere within that forge, the ifflings were finding renewal, and were preparing to create another generation of iffling-children, ifflings who would know a freedom of the realm that had almost been forgotten by the present generation. And within the slopes of the Mountain, dragon eggs once held frozen by the Enemy's sorcery, neither living nor dead, were again pulsing and glowing with life.

A flight of draconi was en route to the Mountain now, led by Windrush. Many of the draconae were clustered on the outer slopes, eagerly awaiting their arrival. How long had it been since they had flown freely together, fearlessly in communion, flying the skies, powerful dragons soaring and glassy draconae blazing in the sun? It seemed an age ago. Many of the draconae had not flown in so long, they were reluctant to venture far at all from the slopes of the Mountain, though Starchime had expressed her hope that that feeling would change, once the draconi had joined them.

Jael was eager for the arrival of the dragons. But more than anything else, she awaited the arrival of Ar.

(
Rawwk! And Ed!
)

(
And Ed,
) she mused, jostling the parrot affectionately in her thoughts. (
Yes, indeed. It's going to be hard to say good-bye to them, in the end—when
they go, and we stay.
)

(
Gwarrrkk. Ed knows. They'll come back, though—awwwwk, yes?
)

Will they? Jael thought. She hoped so, certainly, but there was no way to know. There was also no point in worrying now about the future. They had not even said good-bye yet. There would be time enough for those worries later.

A chiming voice caught her attention, from the outside of the Mountain.
Dragons!
Draconi!
Crossing the plain!

And soon someone else called,
Welcome Windrush! Welcome Windrush and the draconi!

The cry was echoed, until it rang over and over throughout the Mountain. But Jael had her own cry as she formed her kuutekka in the underrealm fires.
Ar,
are you there? Ed? Windrush
—?

Rawwwwk
—!

Come quickly!

The activity in the Mountain seemed unceasing,
was
unceasing. It was not just the draconae flying out across the realm with their new freedom, or the draconi flying with them, asking them endless questions, courting them, renewing relationships long forgotten. It was also the ifflings appearing at intervals from the dreamfires, each time looking brighter and more numerous. And it was the long talks with Ar, his spaceship parked on the outer slopes, Jael speaking through the underrealm to his shimmering presence.

And it was the dragon eggs, glowing back to life in the inner slopes of the Mountain—the next generation of dragons!—bathed on one side by the radiance of the sun shining through the glass slopes of the Mountain, and on the other by the warmth of the Mountain itself, flowing out from the Forge of Dreams. It seemed that there were always glass-winged draconae fluttering over them now, sheltering and nurturing them—and even a few curious draconi, spending an unusual amount of time watching and listening to the unborn dragons.

Nor had they forgotten the egg in the Grotto Garden—which, like much of the lumenis, had been imprisoned by Tar-skel, but not destroyed. Sheltered against the long darkness by Treegrower, that solitary egg had survived. And so had the aging dracona, refusing to admit of any possibility of flight to the Final Dream Mountain until she saw that egg hatched. At first, the talk had been of bringing them both to the Dream Mountain; but the egg was fragile and thin-shelled, and the draconae had decided to weave their spells of growing, and to release the power of the Mountain directly to the Grotto Garden itself.

Who would that young dragonling be? Jael wondered—that lone dragon-to-be, protected against the Enemy for so long, and cherished by a dying dracona to be raised in a new day? She was as eager as any of the draconae to meet the dragon when it hatched.

So much was happening in the realm, and in the Mountain, that time had almost ceased to have meaning for her. To Jael, it was not so much that time was flying by, as that it was standing still. She wasn't sure, really, what time
meant,
in this existence, so different from anything she had known before. She wondered if this was a taste of what it felt like to live in the soulfires of the Final Dream Mountain. Would she have a chance to speak again with Highwing, when she had passed through that last door? More than once, she had thought that she had heard his voice whispering to her, in the near silence of secluded moments in the Mountain. Was it real? Almost anything seemed possible in the dreamfires, in that strange and marvelous singularity that lay at the heart of the Mountain.

She had already asked Lavafire if the singularity could be focused somehow, to help Ar and Ed and the damaged spaceship
Seneca
find safe passage out of the realm to a starport in the static realm. It was an idea that fascinated the draconae, and they were working on it.

But it was an idea that saddened her, as well. It was a reminder that Ar and his Ed would soon have to leave. To Jael, it seemed as if they had just arrived, but they had been here on the Mountain now for many shipdays of their time. They could not linger here forever; they still had a mission contract to fulfill, and news to take back to Kan-Kon, and in truth she thought it was hard on Ar to see her here as a . . . living ghost, probably, from his perspective. The friend he had known, as he'd known her, was gone. No longer could they relax in the ship's commons, around the stondai tree, with Ed flitting about. He could talk to her only through the net, and then only to her kuutekka-presence, because that was all she had now. She knew he didn't find it easy.

One
way or another, we will return,
Ar assured her, for at least the twentieth time, stretching out his hands from the ghostly prow of the ship. It was parked in the outer world, but he and Ed had their heads stuck into the underrealm, as though peering underwater, to speak with her.
But who can say how long it will take—or what that will turn out to be in your time? We do have to earn a
living.
And I'm not sure how many
clients will want us to be passing this way.

Awwwwwwk-k-k. Safe now!
crowed Ed, Jael's Ed, fluttering out from her kuutekka.
Mountain realm
safe!

Ar chuckled.
Maybe so.
But I can't help noticing that every time we come this way, we end up limping back home to the repair docks.

Ed cackled.
Good
for business—hawwww!

Jael smiled, knowing that there was no real answer
to Ar's concerns.
Maybe you can persuade Kan-Kon to visit.
Starchime
tells me that they're almost ready to bring Hodakai here—as soon as they tighten the transport spell just a little more. They're being very careful.

More
careful than FullSky was when he
brought you here, it sounds
like,
said Ar.

Jael nodded. Of course, the situation was different now; they could take all the time they needed. And the truth was that even the draconae were astonished at some of the things that FullSky had managed to do, all while a prisoner in Tar-skel's dungeon.
Is Windrush going to help you fly out, when the time comes?

Haww, yes!
cried the parrot in the ship's net.

He said he'd
fly us right up to the
singularity and
fling us through, if that was what we wanted,
Ar said.
Not exactly in those words, I guess.
But yes—he'll see us off. Here he is now.
Ar pointed off into the shimmering, glassy distance of the underrealm.

The dragon was approaching, his kuutekka glowing silver.
Windrush!
Jael called.
How is the new garden coming
?

The dragon emitted a happy tongue of fire that shone like a dancing ghost in the underweb of the Mountain.
I've found a spot, and
Starchime
is almost ready to sing it into being with me. It will be a good place to raise . . . younglings, I think. I may have to ask the ifflings to ask the sweepers if they would come create some sculptures for me.

Highwing's
spot?
Jael asked softly.

The dragon's eyes glowed brightly.
Just downstream from it. I wanted to leave his old garden alone for now—the spot where it was, I mean. I don't want to intrude. After all, it wouldn't surprise me if his spirit still visited there from time to time.
Windrush paused thoughtfully.
Even now, I often
feel as though he is still with me, somehow.

Perhaps it was Jael's imagination, or perhaps it was just the fluttering of Ed in her thoughts, but she could have sworn she felt a silent whispering presence pass by her, like a breeze stirring a curtain in a window. And a moment later, she was absolutely certain she heard a voice say, very softly, (
Of
course
I am with you
—
all of you. I have never left, and never will.
) And she felt the presence moving again, and realized that Ed—her Ed—had cocked his head at her, as though listening for something.

Well,
she said to Windrush, and saw a similar expression on his face. His eyes, even in their kuutekka form, glowed bright and emerald and deep as a clear-crystal sea, and she knew that he had heard the same voice.

Somehow I don't think you have to worry about intruding,
she said to Windrush. With a wink at Ar, she added,
Why don't you go sing that garden into being, and take Ar with you to see it happen?

Windrush nodded and puffed another bright flame.
I would be pleased if you
would come join us,
he said.
And—Ed!
squawked Ar's parrot.
Don't forget Ed!

Not in an age!
the dragon chuckled.
And we'll see that the draconae don't
forget you, either. Would you like to be remembered in a song, my rigger-friend?

The parrot cocked his head, but before he could speak, the question seemed to be answered for him by a soft, distant choir of draconae voices, chiming in the heart of the Dream Mountain.

Jeffrey A. Carver
was a Nebula Award finalist for his novel
Eternity's End
; he also authored
Battlestar Galactica,
a novelization of the critically acclaimed television miniseries. His novels combine thought-provoking characters with engaging storytelling and range from the adventures of the Star Rigger universe (
Star Rigger's Way, Dragons in the Stars,
and others) to the character-driven hard SF of
The Chaos Chronicles.
Sunborn,
published in 2008, is the fourth novel in the Chaos series, which began with
Neptune Crossing
and continued with
Strange Attractors
and
The Infinite Sea.

A native of Huron, Ohio, Carver lives with his family in the Boston area. He has taught writing in a variety of settings, from educational television to conferences for young writers. He has created a free web site for aspiring authors of all ages at http://www.writesf.com
.
Learn more about the author and his work at http://www.starrigger.net
.