Shadow (6 page)

Shadow’s loud snort from outside the window set the little girl giggling, her hands covering her mouth.

‘The difference is marked to anyone with a sense of taste,’
Shadow huffed.

‘Just playing to my audience,’
Pell replied innocently, not speaking aloud.

‘You’re all right, mister,’ Saffi announced in a loud voice. ‘Your dragon’s a bit scary, but you’re all right.’

‘Thank you, Saffi. I’m glad you think so.’

And he
was
glad. It felt good to be accepted. So why did he find it so hard to integrate into the dragonrider community? It was strange. At home he had always been accepted by his
siblings and popular with his peers, but from the moment he met Shadow his relationships with them had changed. His surge of ambition had isolated him from everyone he had held dear. He still found
it easy to charm those from whom he sensed no challenge, but amongst his peers he became insular and cold.

Was he wrong to be ambitious? He and Shadow were a formidable partnership. He could
feel
their potential as a team. The fall, humbling as it had been, had left him feeling more
complete. When the leaders of the night dragon enclave learned he had embarked on the Great Quest, his standing would rise rapidly.

Riders from other enclaves did not trust the night dragons. Therefore, he could not afford to trust them. It was wrong that dragons should be judged by appearance, but there was a distinct
prejudice. It was present both amongst the general populace, and amongst the rest of the dragonrider community. Night dragons looked particularly fierce with their heavily armoured bodies, their
sharp horns and red eyes. Because of this, folk were quick to blame no end of ills on them.

It’s time that changed, he thought. It’ll take a while, but it’s a goal worth striving for.

Chapter Five

Glowing embers and the smouldering remains of twigs and smaller branches dripped from the trees in a red, smoking rain. Steam hissed from the damp, leafy carpet like a thousand
snakes. The yelps of pain and fright from those unfortunate dogs singed by spark or flame were lost amongst the frenzied barking of the main pack.

Nolita had been ready for the blast of fire. Firestorm had given her a timely warning. She held her breath, curled into a tight ball on her saddle and tucked her head between her forearms as she
clung to the pommel with all her strength.

‘Hang on tight, Nolita. We’re getting out of here.’

Nolita didn’t reply to her dragon’s order. Instead she kept her head low and, ignoring the danger from
the dogs leaping and scrabbling at Firestorm’s flanks, she slipped her feet down into the stirrups. It was well that she did, for the added stability kept her from falling as her dragon shot
forwards through the smoke-filled tunnel under the trees.

Unable to hold her breath any longer, she drew in a gulping gasp. The thick smoke instantly irritated the back of her throat, triggering an involuntary fit of coughing. Panic gripped her afresh
as she lost control of her breathing. Nolita felt she had gained some mastery over her fear during the last few days, but a familiar wall of blackness was looming. Her head spun as she flirted with
unconsciousness. Being on Firestorm’s back brought fear enough, but the concentrated attack by the dogs had raised her fear levels to new heights. Now she was not only on a dragon’s
back, but smoke-blind, choking, and racing through a treacherous, burning tunnel under the trees. It was hard to imagine anything more terrifying.

Even as Firestorm ran forwards, she felt him draw in another deep breath. The roar as he sent a second blast of flame ahead of them was not unexpected, but the wash of heat was so intense that
she wondered if some of the smell of burning that filled her mouth, nose and throat was that of her own hair.

‘Stay with me, Nolita,’
Fire urged.
‘Nearly there. One more blast will see us clear.’

She forced her eyes open a crack, but she couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing. He was preparing to spew another gout of fire. She could feel him gathering it beneath her. She
clamped her eyelids tight shut again. A moment later and a third roar issued from his throat. The mindless barking of the dogs was beginning to fall behind them now. Suddenly she felt the change of
air. They were clear of the trees. She felt Firestorm’s muscles bunch as he extended his wings and began his first downstroke.

The whoosh of air that marked the beginning of Firestorm’s take-off brought a sense of relief. A few days ago it would have amplified her fear, but the increasingly familiar rhythmic
feeling as they launched into the air served this time to calm her. They had escaped the pack. Her coughing began to subside. Fresh air forced the smoke from her lungs, but the taste of it remained
as she started to regain control of her breathing.

A sharp series of cracking reports were followed an instant later by a stinging sensation in her chest. It took a moment to realise that the pain it brought was not hers, but Firestorm’s.
She was feeling it through their mental link. The sound of something whizzing through the air helped her identify the source of the noise. Someone was directing one of the strange weapons of this
world in their direction. More cracking noises announced the release of more weapons, but none found their mark.

‘We’re clear,’
Fire announced.
‘The others are safe. They are right behind us.’

‘Thank you,’
she replied, feeling guilty. Nolita had been so caught up in her own predicament that she had not spared a thought for her companions. Tears of relief replaced
those caused by the smoke. She twisted her head to dash them from her cheeks with her shoulder. Letting go of the pommel to wipe them away with her hand was still beyond her.

With a final hacking cough she cleared her throat. ‘I felt that weapon hit you, Fire,’ she said aloud. ‘Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine, Nolita,’
he replied, clearly touched by her concern.
‘It stings a little, but it did not penetrate my scales.’

‘Good,’ she said. And to her amazement, she found that she meant it. It was barely more than a week ago that Elian and Kira had tied her to Aurora’s saddle and whisked into
this quest. Revulsion and terror had been her dominant emotions then, but now she cared about this great, fire-breathing beast. Its appearance still frightened her. Its ability to communicate
directly with her mind still felt alien and uncomfortable, but despite everything she was developing positive feelings for him that she would never have believed possible just a short time ago.

She looked around. As they climbed, the predawn light was increasing. The silhouette of Aurora’s sleek form was clearly visible a little behind and to the right. She could see no sign of
Fang and Kira, but that was not unusual. Fang’s camouflage made him totally invisible in this light, and Kira’s slim form was not easy to see.

‘We’re going to keep climbing,’
Fire informed her.
‘Aside from being safer, the dawn will come more quickly the higher we get.’

‘Really?’
Nolita replied.
‘Why’s that? Surely the sun isn’t affected by our flying.’

‘No,’
Fire chuckled.
‘Dragons have many abilities, but we cannot move the sun. Would that we could, for then Aurora’s dawn window would be easy to meet. No,
it’s all to do with angles. I’ll explain it to you sometime
if you like.’

‘Angles? Thank you, no. My brother, Balard, tried to explain angles to me last year, Fire. I developed a headache faster than you’d believe possible. I don’t think I have
the right sort of mind for clever stuff like that.’

‘I think you might be surprised at what you can learn if you try, Nolita, now that your mind is less clouded by fear. There are many things that you could excel at if you put your mind
to them.’

‘Really?’
she said, wondering what sorts of things the dragon felt she might be good at. The strange mental bridge that linked their minds drew her. She had shied away from
it until now, choosing to shout across the link rather than explore it. But the bridge between their minds was not going to go away. It was another of the boundaries marking the edge of her comfort
zone. Could she direct her thoughts across the bridge? What would she find on the other side? Would she be able to read Firestorm’s thoughts?

The last few days had taught her some of the benefits of confronting her fears. With a sense of trepidation, she probed the bond with tentative exploratory thought. It felt strange to touch the
link in this way – uncomfortable, but sort of exciting. It reminded her of when she had secretly searched the house for midwinter gifts as a little girl. The delicious mixture of excitement
and the danger of being caught by her parents was unforgettable. She had never discovered where her mother concealed the gifts, but the thrill of the search had stayed with her.

Her experience this time was different. Where she had failed in her goal as a child, this time she succeeded. Her gentle tendril of thought crossed the bridge into Firestorm’s mind. With a
gasp, she withdrew it immediately.

It took a moment for her to understand what she had seen. The sensation in that alien environment had been one of vastness, like the Chamber of the Sun’s Steps, but much, much bigger.
More, there had been a pervading sense of wisdom and knowledge that spanned back over many season rotations. As she tried to resolve the experience into an image she could relate to, a picture of a
great library formed – a huge storehouse of knowledge that stretched into the distance in all directions.

Firestorm did not say anything, but she knew he had felt her presence in his mind. The bond now carried a flavour of welcome. A shudder ran down her spine. Despite the silent welcome being
offered by the dragon, she recoiled from the idea of crossing again.

The temperature was dropping fast as they climbed through a small gap in the clouds. Her last glimpse of the shadowy, patchwork landscape below was one of strange tranquillity. The steady
beating of Firestorm’s wings and the whisper of their passage through the air were the only sounds audible. When she considered the horrors of the war below and the terrible weapons with
which it was being fought, it was hard to reconcile the peaceful image with the reality.

Nolita did not have to be warned of the imminence of dawn. It was obvious. In the moment that the swirling grey vortex appeared ahead of them, she fought down the flash of panic with the ease of
regular recent practice. They plunged into the swirling void, the gut-wrenching twist and the sense of weightlessness now familiar enough to be more uncomfortable than terrifying. Emergence into
the air amongst the mountains of Orupee was more frightening.

On her last visit here the wind across the mountaintops had subjected Nolita and the others to dangerous turbulence and vicious air currents. This time the air was smooth, but filled with a
murky mist of rain that offered a different kind of danger. Nolita could see the ground directly below, but horizontal visibility was limited in all directions to no more than a few dragon lengths.
At the speed they were flying it would be easy to fly into a cliff-face before being able to react to its presence.

‘Can we slow down?’
she asked.

‘Not easily,’
Firestorm replied.
‘Dragons are not too good at hovering. Our wings are not well suited to that sort of flying. We can do it for a second or two in
times of need, but it takes vast amounts of energy. Our wings are better suited to cruising at high speed.’

‘Well, can we descend, then? It looks clearer down there,’
she pointed out.

‘We can try, but it won’t be any better,’
Fire told her.
‘It’s an optical illusion, Nolita. If we go down, we will increase the likelihood of running
into a ridge, or an outcrop of rock. At least up here we just have mountain-tops to worry about.’

‘Just
the mountaintops! You’re not filling me with confidence, Fire. How will we find the Oracle’s cave?’

‘I’m going to make a guess.’

‘Guess! Are you mad?’ Nolita’s voice cracked on the last syllable.

‘No, not mad,’
he assured her.
‘Just very confident of my guesses. When we flew along this valley last time, I memorised some of the landmarks and their relative
positions. It’s a habit. All dragons do it to one degree or another. I happen to be quite good at it.’

Nolita’s stomach churned as she squinted into the misty rain. Having experienced a momentary flash of the dragon’s mind, she could well imagine him memorising landmarks. However, the
idea that he could reference those landmarks with sufficient accuracy to safely navigate the treacherous path she remembered was simply not believable.

Visions of looming cliffs filled her mind. If they did hit a rock wall she had no illusions of her chances of survival. A dragon was tough – maybe Firestorm would have a chance. She would
have none. The valley floor was many hundreds of spans below. No human could survive a fall like that. Her hands clenched yet tighter around the pommel of her saddle.