The Balance of Power (Godsland Series: Books Four, Five, and Six) (64 page)

For some reason unknown to Allette, the beast slowed and regarded her. There was no friendliness or charity there, only a bit of curiosity. Quivering, Allette stared into the eyes of death and she pleaded.
Not me,
she said with her eyes.
Not me. You don't want to kill me. Not me.

Another of Thundegar's cries split the air.

Not me.

The cat blinked then slowly turned and walked back toward the others. Allette ran.

* * *

Creating a comfortable space within the hollow mountain, where there was naught but rock and more rock, was a challenging thing indeed. The few items they had brought with them were strewn about with nothing that resembled real order. A small fire circle surrounded by melon-sized rocks was the most organized thing in their camp. It seemed odd to camp within a mountain, but they were far from settled. It would take years to establish the services and materials needed to replicate things they had taken for granted on the Godfist. Here there were no mines, no forges, no mills, no farms, nothing but unfriendly wilderness.

Only the discovery of what people were calling stalk weed gave Durin any hope for establishing some order in the short term. Stalk weed grew in large quantities and was relatively easy to harvest. When mature, the stuff was as big around as Durin's forearm and twice his height. Each stalk was hollow and segmented, forming natural chambers as long as Durin's arm. Beyond the obvious utility for creating containers and vessels, he saw unlimited potential using the stalks as building materials.

After dragging an armload of stalks from the forest to their camp, Durin wiped the sweat from his brow and took a few deep breaths. His back ached but the hard work felt good, and he knew the effort would be worthwhile in the long run. He smiled, remembering how he had gone to such lengths to avoid the work Miss Mariss had assigned him. Now he knew how good it could feel to have worked your hardest and to have something to show at the end of your labors. Sinjin and the other Drakon had their hands full with the dragons, which put even greater burden on everyone else on the Firstland. Those without dragons had little choice but to support themselves and the Drakon at a time when just keeping themselves fed was difficult enough.

For once in his life, Durin applied himself to finding solutions to the problems his people faced. It was strange to him that the Arghast had existed on the Godfist all along, albeit separately, and now he lived among them in a different land and was coming to know them as he never had before. These were good, kind, hardworking people, and they deserved the very best from him. Miss Mariss had deserved the very best as well; it had just taken time for him to realize it.

With so many thoughts and ideas competing for his attention, Durin found he didn't even remember much of the climb back down to the forest. Once there, he didn't simply harvest the stalk weed as other were doing; he explored other parts of the forest where the stalk weed didn't grow. Stalk weed tended to grow in isolated clumps where nothing else grew. Durin had enough stalk to work with and needed something to bind it. Rope was in precious short supply, so he looked for a substitute. Already he'd seen others using thick vines to tie bundles, but those vines were brittle and had seemed more trouble than they were worth. Watchful of his surroundings, he wandered into the forest. Small creatures moved within the underbrush, and not being able to see what they were nearly made him flee, only the fact that whatever it was fled from him kept him moving forward. Sinjin and the others had urged people to forage in pairs, but he'd been paired with Kendra, and she wasn't much for foraging. She'd also made it quite clear that he was not well suited to hunting. In the end, it was easier to just go alone and stay fairly close.

Still, he found himself farther from the base of the mountain than he'd intended, and he froze at the sound of a nearby branch snapping. Pressing himself against a towering oak, he looked around nervously. A shadow detached itself from a nearby tree. Durin was ready to run, but the form was familiar.

"You're gonna get yourself killed coming out this far alone," Kendra said.

"I heard you coming, didn't I?"

"Only because I let you know I was here," she said. "Did you know you have a habit of talking to yourself? It's very informative."

Durin flushed at that comment, trying to remember what he might have said. Odds were that he'd said something uncomplimentary toward Kendra; her looks certainly implied that was the case. "I thought you didn't like foraging."

"I don't," Kendra said. "I'm not foraging. You are. Sneaking up on you is far more fun."

"And so much more useful," Durin said. Kendra just raised an eyebrow. "Why did you even come here? It sure doesn't seem like you want to be here. You could've stayed on the Godfist. In fact, you could've stayed in the Greatland. So why come here? I wonder--"

"Shut up," Kendra said.

Durin was in no mood for her abuse. "No. You mope and complain and whine, and I'm sick of it." He'd half expected to get punched for his words, but all he got was silence in return. When he looked back, she was turning away. Was that a tear he saw on her cheek? She didn't give him the chance to find out as she disappeared into the forest.

"Women," Durin said.

* * *

Watching the Drakon work together to assemble Sinjin's saddle and everything he could possibly need to fly, Sinjin felt unworthy. He'd done nothing to earn such devotion, yet he tried to receive it gracefully. When Mikala insisted on adding a stirrup cup and strap to secure the Staff of Life and another set of straps near the pommel to hold Koe, Sinjin didn't object, despite his misgivings. The additions wouldn't hurt anything, and no one else needed to know how he felt about the staff and Koe; both items seemed to require things from him that he did not possess, especially power. Always they reminded him of what he was not.

There was one thing that he did have now that changed the equation and caused his thoughts to diverge from their familiar tracks. Now he had Valterius and a saddle made with such care, it brought tears to his eyes. He had the power of his mind, and that would have to be enough.

At long last, there was nothing more that could be done to prepare; all that was left was for Valterius to don the saddle. Even though the dragon had accepted the gifts, Sinjin still worried he would refuse. This was far more than a simple leather strap. The dragon's stance was neutral as Sinjin approached, carrying the saddle and dressed in overwarm leathers. Sinjin would have held the saddle over his head and let Valterius try to put it on himself, but it was simply too unwieldy, and there were far too many straps and other bits that needed to be just so. Sinjin was amazed how much the Arghast had picked up on the construction of dragon saddles in such a short time with access to Kyrien and his mother's saddle. The skills they possessed for making horse saddles largely translated, and the craftsmanship was without rival; these were remarkable people, indeed.

Valterius sniffed the saddle and gave a satisfied
woof;
Sinjin thought again of him and Valterius flying together--comfortably. The dragon then presented his withers. It was as clear a message as Sinjin was likely to get, and he wasted no time. Mikala and Arakhan approached Valterius, and he pulled his wings back, presenting his breast to them; it was a sign of implicit trust. The two bowed in deference and helped Sinjin secure the girths and breast collar, which would help keep the saddle from sliding backward.

The bridle worried Sinjin the most, but it had no bit, and he hoped Valterius would not take offense. Standing before him, bridle in hand, Sinjin presented it to his dragon. Valterius eyed the item with suspicion, as if it had changed in nature since he'd accepted the gift. Sniffing tentatively, he gave a snort, and Sinjin wasn't certain he approved. Still, he held out the bridle and moved closer to Valterius's head. To his surprise, the dragon slid its mighty jaws into the leather loop. Sinjin pulled the crownpiece over horned ridges and cinched it snug. Braided reins he pulled back to the saddle, and Valterius lowered himself to allow Sinjin to easily mount.

Durin came with the staff and Koe, and Sinjin secured them out of respect for Mikala.

Durin whispered, "It scares people that you leave these laying around. Do me a favor and just keep them with you. Besides, the staff makes you look more
 . . .. leaderly, if that's even a word."

Once he was strapped in and secure, Sinjin tested his mobility and smiled; the saddle kept him completely secured and still allowed for a limited amount of movement; perhaps not as much as his mother had enjoyed in her much larger saddle, but she'd also had a much larger dragon. What Sinjin had fit him and Valterius perfectly, and he'd never felt such excitement. He knew what a rush it was to fly, but now he would get to experience it without the constant fear of death. Maybe it was his imagination, but he could almost swear Valterius was laughing at him.

In the next moment, though, the dragon reared up to his full height, not touching the roof of the chamber but close. With his wings extended, he flapped just enough to send swirls of sand and dust into the air. Sinjin felt as if he would fall over backward at first, but the straps held him firmly and he relaxed. All those within the hollow mountain gathered to watch as Valterius walked toward the opening. The dragon took his time and seemed to enjoy the sense of drama he created. Sinjin chuckled that his mighty dragon was also a bit of a show-off. Perhaps Valterius sensed Sinjin's mirth, for he suddenly leaped from the stone and flapped his mighty wings before they had actually reached the edge of the chamber. Roughhewn stone that looked almost smooth from below proved to be jagged and pocked when seen from up close--far too close for Sinjin's liking. Pressing himself down low to the dragon's neck, he could almost hear Valterius laughing. Sinjin reminded himself to be careful of his thoughts around Valterius; the dragon could sense perhaps more of Sinjin's thoughts than he could the dragon's.

All thoughts vanished when the stone surrounding them disappeared, and once again Sinjin knew the exhilaration of flight. This time, Valterius did not head toward the sea; instead, he skimmed the trees and hugged the valleys, allowing Sinjin to get a much better view of the lands surrounding the hollow mountain.

At first, there was the devastation left by the battles, but then they moved into lands untouched by battle or human hands for thousands of years, and still there were traces of that ancient past. Carvings adorned mountainsides and parts of the forest bore symmetrical shapes that resembled the remains of cities and towns. Here and there a mighty statue remained, but few were recognizable beyond vague shapes, the details lost to the ravages of time. Movement within the trees caught Sinjin's attention, and he spotted Gholgi on the hunt, working as a pack to drive their prey, in this case a young buck deer, into a narrow ravine. Valterius swooped in low and gave Sinjin a better look. Though there was resemblance between the Gholgi and the demons, the Gholgi appeared much more natural. The demons were like Gholgi that had been fouled in some way, and the thought made Sinjin's stomach spasm.

Soon, though, the Gholgi were left behind, and rugged coastline came into view. Valterius executed a long sweeping turn that gave Sinjin a view of caves dotting the coast, some partially submerged in water, others higher on the cliff face. Seabirds flocked to these cliffs, and Sinjin ducked as some flew too close. Out to sea, Sinjin spotted the
Dragon's Wing
returning from another fishing foray. He noted that it was far too pretty a ship to be relegated to life as a fishing boat. He was glad the role was only temporary. Eventually the ships from the Godfist would arrive, and those could be converted into fishing vessels, but Sinjin thought they might need to build a ship or two in the meantime toward that purpose.

A storm loomed in the east, and whitecaps dotted the seas. Valterius took them higher, allowing Sinjin to see all of the Firstland at one time. It seemed smaller than he would have thought, but he had no other reference point; he'd never seen any other land from the skies. Still, it gave him the sense that it was half the size of the Godfist--more than large enough for their needs, and though there were Gholgi and other natural predators, the place appeared safe enough.

The people aboard the
Dragon's Wing
shouted and waved as Valterius flew low over the bow. Sinjin could see the shocked faces below and he waved. The look on Gwen's face was something he would never forget; she'd been avoiding him, and she did not appear prepared to believe him a true dragon rider. It was something even Sinjin did not believe of himself, yet there he was; it would appear he did not need to believe he was something to be that very thing. It was a discomforting realization. What else was he that he believed otherwise?

Now that Valterius seemed to have accomplished his goals for this flight, he soared around the Firstland with no apparent destination. Sinjin decided this would be a good time to test the reins. Gently he pulled the dragon's head to one side, and Valterius dipped the respective wingtip, executing a gentle, sweeping turn. Then he pulled back to the other side, and Valterius once again cooperated. Pulling back, he sent the dragon higher, and when he leaned forward, leaving the reins slack, Valterius gently arched into a dive. Trimming his wings, the dragon sent them plummeting toward the cliffs. The longer they dropped, the more concerned Sinjin became, and he started to pull back on the reins; nothing happened. Still they dropped, still Sinjin pulled back, and still nothing happened.