Dragonclaw (17 page)

So be it
, the mother-dragon said, and she lifted one great claw and threw something across the room to Meghan in a scatter of bright sparks. Meghan threw up her hand automatically and when she opened her fingers, found within all seven of her rings, including the moonstone Isabeau had made her. There was also a dragoneye stone, blazing with red-golden fire.
My thanks
, she stammered and with a bound of her heart slipped her rings back into her pocket.

Now, my sons, it is time to wreak our revenge on those misbegotten soldiers!
the mother-dragon cried and there was a great whirring of wings and lashing of tails as the dragons sprang into the air and flew out of the great hall. Meghan felt her breath catch, for never had she seen a sight of such perilous grandeur as those great creatures on the wing.

Now, sorceress, I would like thee to meet my daughter
, the mother-dragon said and heaved herself back onto the pile of treasures, where she turned round and round before settling her great bulk down again.
She will fly thee down to where thy friend is kept. Be thou careful, Meghan Dragon-Lord, and do not stay long
.

Meghan bowed her head in thanks, then rose as straight as her old back would allow, and looked the queen-dragon directly in the eye. The bright blaze opened all around her and she flew into its dark heart confidently.
My Banrìgh, there is one more thing I would fain ask ye. A few nights ago, at the height o' the Red Wanderer … something happened. A spell was enacted. We felt it and I ken ye did too, for we heard the bugling o' your sons. I would fain understand what it was
.

The queen-dragon shifted her great bulk, and treasure scattered under her claws, a massive chalice rolling down the stairs and coming to rest at Meghan's feet, a string of lambent pearls tangled in its handle. When she spoke there was unease in her mind-voice.
It was a Spell of Begetting
, she answered.
A very ancient spell, and one that requires great power and careful timing
.

Was the spell successful?

Indeed it was. The babe born of that spell shall have great powers indeed. Conceived at the height of the comet, it shall be born with winter and the tides of darkness. It is then that the veil between the world of the living and the world of the dead is at its thinnest. This will be no ordinary babe
.

Meghan nodded, ice gripping her entrails. The queen-dragon blew gently on her, the steamy, sulphurous breath lifting her hair and warming her through.
Be of good heart, Meghan Dragon-Lord. I have known thy family for a very long time. Aedan's blood is strong in thee. Thou art his daughter indeed. Remember our name and when thou callest, I shall send my sons to thee. That I pledge for the centuries of friendship between our families
.

Meghan thanked her again, though she was still shivering with a cold the dragon's warm breath and words could not dispel. A Spell of Begetting … and a child born at Samhain, night of the dead. A new thread had indeed been strung.

Slowly Meghan began the long ascent out of the dragon's hall, first checking her patient, who now lay still, his hide dull and grey tinged. His skin was cooler, however, and his breathing steady. She felt great satisfaction in having been able to save his life, particularly since it had resulted in the dragons pledging their support, a result she had hardly dared dream of. The climb up the spiral ramp left her legs trembling and her heart shaking, and she cursed her old body, wishing for the resilience and vigour she had once known. Of all the challenges Meghan had faced and bested in her long and challenging life, this had to be the most difficult, the one in which she would most need all her resources of strength, cunning and wit.

Meghan reached the blessed safety and light of the valley at last, and there found a tall youngster clad all in white fur. Dazzled by the contrast between the dark hall and the brightness of the rising sun, Meghan strained her eyes to see the person's features, wondering what he or she was doing here in the valley of the dragons. Then a shock like a knife blade went through her, for the shadowed face looked just like Isabeau's. She staggered and would have fallen except for the saving arm of the stranger with Isabeau's face.

Propped against the high step, Meghan groped into her pouch and came out with a small flask. The stranger helped her unscrew its lid, and she drank a few mouthfuls of the heady liquid.

‘The dragons be indeed fearful, auld mother,' the stranger said, by her voice a young woman.

Meghan said nothing, only scrutinised her face and body closely, realising the resemblance had not been the wishful thinking of a fond old woman or the after-effects of her terrifying day and exhausting night. This young woman was indeed identical to Isabeau, except perhaps a trifle thinner in the face. She was as tall as Isabeau, and as slender. Her hair was concealed by a fur hat and ruff, but by the colour of her brows and lashes Meghan could tell she would be as red-haired.

‘What is your name?' she finally managed to ask.

The girl's brows rose with a certain hauteur, but she answered readily, with a halting accent as if the language was foreign to her. ‘I am Khan'derin, ad-Khan'gharad gessepKhan'lysa o' the Fire-Dragon Pride, Scarred Warrior and heir to the Firemaker.'

‘Khan'gharad. I ken that name … Is he your father? Who is your mother? Ye could be Isabeau's twin, ye look so alike!' She scanned Khan'derin's face carefully, and the girl lifted her head and stared back at Meghan coldly, her face austere beneath the white fur cap.

‘My mother has always been unknown to me,' Khan'derin said with no sign of sorrow. ‘But I am daughter to the grandson o' the Firemaker, he who is called Khan'gharad.'

‘Who is the Firemaker?'

Khan'derin's answer was extremely reluctant and Meghan thought it was only the girl's respect for her age that made her answer at all. ‘The Firemaker is Auld Mother o' the Fire-Dragon Pride. The Firemakers are children o' the Red, given to the People in reward for their long exile, to bring warmth and light to the howling night, and protection from the enemies o' the prides. I am her great-granddaughter and heir, so it does no' really matter who my mother was. However, I am bonded to the service o' the sleeping sorceress, and I have wondered if that was done because she is my mother. Asrohc says she thinks this is so, though no-one tells her anything either.'

‘Who is Asrohc?' To Meghan's amazement a wave of burning colour swept up over the girl's face and her eyes fell for the first time. Against the crimson of her sunken cheeks Meghan saw two thin scars that ran across either cheekbone and remembered Khan'derin's strange way of introducing herself. Meghan repeated her question, but Khan'derin looked up coldly, saying, ‘Please come with me. I have been informed ye wish to travel down to see the sleeping sorceress. I will take ye there.'

‘Where are we going?'

‘To the Cursed Valley, o' course,' the girl replied scornfully.

Feeling very tired and very puzzled, Meghan leant heavily on her staff, clutching her plaid about her. ‘I am tired. I need to rest and eat afore I can begin a journey.'

‘We may no' sleep in the dragons' valley, auld mother,' Khan'derin said in a respectful voice that still seemed somehow mocking.

‘I see,' Meghan said. ‘Then we must go slowly, for indeed I am feeling my age this morning.'

‘We need no' go far, auld mother,' the girl said in her cold voice. ‘I have been informed ye have been given the Queen's name. That means ye may cross your leg over the dragon's back. We shall fly down on dragonback.'

Meghan had lived a very long time, so long she sometimes wondered why she had not died long ago, letting her escape the prison of her body. Sometimes she longed for that release; other times she was afraid she would die before her tasks were complete. Still, she often wondered what more life could bring, she who had been born a banprionnsa but was likely to die outlawed and reviled. The moment she heard she was to fly by dragonback, she knew, and great joy welled up in her. To think she was to fly, at last, after so many years reading of it, so many years longingly watching Ishbel's aerial acrobatics! To think she, Meghan of the Beasts, was to cross her leg over the back of a dragon, that most mysterious and frightening of faery creatures.

Khan'derin lead Meghan towards the loch where steam billowed up from the warm waters that lapped at the sides of a small dragon. Only her head was fully visible, the eyes shut, the nostrils floating just above the water.

‘The dragons love the water. It is cold for them up here and the water is bonny and warm,' Khan'derin said, the first thing she had said without prompting.

‘Why is that?' Meghan asked, as always insatiably curious.

‘The belly o' the mountain is hot. Long ago he ate all o' his enemies at a banquet in revenge for the rape o' his daughter, but the gods were displeased, for he had broken bread with them then betrayed the law o' the prides by killing his guests. So his enemies lie uneasily in his stomach and sometimes he belches. Once, long ago, he tried to rid his stomach o' them by vomiting, but all that came out were his own fiery entrails.'

‘Is that why the palace o' the dragons is at Dragonclaw, because the mountain is warm?'

‘The dragons live deep down in the belly o' the mountain where the stone walls and floor are warm. The palace is where they come to meet their guests. No human or faery is allowed past the surface halls. Even I have never done more than try to peep past the gate.'

The baby dragon slithered out of the loch, steam rising from her gilded back and water streaming everywhere. She was a bright green-gold and smaller even than the injured dragon, only twenty feet long from nose to tail-tip. Her eyes gleamed topaz, and she bounded along rather like a colt, her sinuous body undulating gracefully.

Meghan made the dragon a deep bow, but the youngest and smallest of all the dragons merely yawned and sent a few childish sounding thoughts to Meghan's mind.
I will take thou wherever thou wishes
, she said.
My wings need a good stretch and I can fit both Khan'derin and thee on my back. Mother says thou saved my brother from the evil soldiers, and for that I thank thee, though he be so rude most of the time. My name is Caillec Asrohc Airi Telloch Cas
.

Asrohc!
Khan'derin exclaimed.

It is permitted, Khan'derin. Mother said I could. Besides, thou hast already said it so thou canst hardly lecture me!

Khan'derin again flushed red, and Meghan stared at her scars in silent curiosity. Suddenly she was so tired she thought the ground was moving faintly beneath her feet.

‘Come, eat some food to fill your stomach afore we go,' Khan'derin said. ‘The first time on dragonback can be truly fearful.'

As Khan'derin spoke she was harnessing the dragon princess with a complicated method of straps and padding that would give the humans something to hold onto and keep them from falling. Once the harness was strapped on to her approval, she laid out on a cloth some freshly baked bread and soft cheese, dried bellfruit and a flask of herbed water. Meghan ate thankfully, conscious of the steady gazes of girl and dragon alike, and trying to nerve herself for the flight. The tall girl eyed Meghan's woollen dress and plaid, then stripped off her furs. Underneath she was wearing breeches and a jerkin, both made from soft, white leather.

‘It is very cold on dragonback, auld mother. Ye must wear my furs.'

Meghan eyed the white skins in horror, and shook her head. Although her hand-woven plaid had strands of white
geal'teas
fur entwined through the fabric, the fur had been gathered from where it had caught on thorntrees on the mountainside. Meghan could no more wear the skin of a dead animal than she could that of a dead human. Her stomach roiled at the very thought, and she continued to shake her head, despite Khan'derin's repeated offer. The girl looked at her in surprise then shrugged and put the furs back on. She then strapped a short crossbow to her back, slung a quiver of arrows over one shoulder, and pulled on a pair of leather gloves lined with white fur. Against the grey of the stone and the blue of the morning sky, she was a dazzling figure.

As soon as Meghan had eaten, Khan'derin vaulted onto Asrohc's back. She held down a hand for Meghan, who clambered up, using the dragon's knee as a step. She only had time to tie the strap around her waist and take a deep breath, before being jerked forward as Asrohc launched off. Suddenly all the world was tilting below her, vaster than Meghan could ever have imagined, and far too far below for any degree of comfort. Behind them snowy peaks curved into a wide blue haze; over Asrohc's crested head she could see the green valleys of the Sithiche Mountains and, far far away, a glitter that could only be the Rhyllster winding its way to the sea. The cold pierced her like a dagger, and she huddled her woollen plaid closer around her head and shoulders, and tried to keep her skirts from swirling up in the wind. Gitâ, huddled deep in her pocket as always, gave a protesting squeak, his sharp claws digging through her clothes.

Asrohc turned and dived, and Meghan's heart plummeted into her boots as the horizon blurred. For one awful moment she was afraid she would lose her breakfast. Then Asrohc's dive steadied, and she circled the peak several times before again plunging at a rate that had Meghan's cheeks wobbling and her long iron-grey plait streaming behind like another dragon tail.

Let us go and see what my brothers have been up to
, Asrohc said exuberantly, and raced around a jagged corner of Dragonclaw as if wanting to see how close her wing tips could go to the mountain.

The sight around the corner sickened Meghan. The wide, snowy meadow that she had laboured up that moonlit night a week ago was now strewn with the dead and dying bodies of the Red Guards. More than three hundred bodies lay there, their cloaks no redder than the bloodied snow, their bodies torn and charred beyond recognition. Three of the great bronze males were snacking on some of the corpses, a sight which made Meghan sick to the stomach. She leant over Asrohc's shoulder and vomited into the air, causing the dragon to screech and whip her wing away.