Lords of the Sky

But as I locked myself to the saddle of my beautiful, wondrous sky-riding steed, I felt only heady excitement. I lusted to fly again, to be adragonback. I’d been too long grounded, and as I turned to wave at my companions, I saw they, too, felt that urgency. Even Urt was smiling and answered my wave with a reckless hand. I caught Rwyan’s eye and saw her teeth flash white in the sun. Bellek was beaming as if his dreams came true. Tezdal nodded and grinned, but I thought him far less elated than we others. I said, knowing Deburah would communicate it past the thunder of the wings, “We make peace, my friend. We do this for all the people of our world, yours and mine and Urt’s. All of them!”

I heard back, Yes, but nothing more; and I was too eager to be gone that I felt the need to question him further or wonder at his reticence.

Then, I knew only the thunder of myriad dragons’ wings rising to beat the sky. To climb above Kherbryn as folk stared in naked wonder at the impossible squadrons that circled over the city. I wondered if the Ahn had felt such wonder as I saw on the rapidly disappearing faces of those Dhar, when Attul led them eastward into their exodus.

But that was a brief thought: those faces were too soon gone as Deburah spread her magnificent wings and climbed toward the sun. And Kherbryn was left behind in moments, and we were winging east over parched farmlands to the coast.

Sea under us then, which was disconcerting-to find no secure land beneath, but only the argent blue of the Fend; ahead, the Sentinels.

No contest from them: Taerl had sent firm word we should not be interrupted in our passing, and we crossed them without disturbance. We were high enough I could not discern individual faces, but I saw-for the first time-the great white towers that held the crystals. And I felt their magic like a prickling against my skin. It was akin to what I’d felt in Trebizar: a sense of terrible power, not unlike that dread the Sky Lords’ airboats delivered.

The dragons felt it: stronger even than we who rode them, and I “heard” the calling of the bulls, that they be allowed to go down and rend the towers, pluck out the crystals and all who used them. Bellek, echoed by us all, bade them no, that this was not suitable prey. At least, not yet. I told Deburah we’d a greater duty, and reluctant as the rest, she winged onward, so that soon the Sentinels were lost behind us.

We flew above the Kheryn-Veyhn now.

We Dhar had no name for the sea other than “the eastern ocean,” for we’d no use for any name: our world extended no farther. This was the sea the Sky Lords crossed to bring the fylie of the Kho’rabi against us; it was unknown. Tezdal had crossed it in that skyboat that Rwyan’s magic had brought down, but that (so he had told us) had been a hard journey, even with the Kho’rabi wizards whipping the elementals onward in service of their vessels. For us, it was easy, up where the air is thin, and only dragons can fly, and the sad worldly magic of humble men has no power.

I saw elementals then, like fleeting visions glimpsed from the corners of my eyes. I could not quite believe them, but Deburah told me they were there and helped us on our way, because she and all her kin were closer to them than human folk, who looked only to govern them and control them, not live with them in equality.

Except, I was gratified to “hear,” for Dragonmasters.

I did not properly understand, but I wanted to learn and accepted for now that explanation. More urgently, I wanted to reach Ahn-feshang and set in place the final part of our design.

For which I must wait: not even dragons can fly that ocean without halt. The elementals can, but they are not entirely of this world-they live in the spaces between, while dragons, for all their innate magic, are entirely physical beings: they must rest.

Which they did, to my consternation.

The sun was setting behind us. The sky there was red and burnished gold, like the dying flames of a forge. Ahead was a blue darkness pricked by stars and the indifferent face of the newly filled moon. The air, despite that aura of warmth Deburah afforded me and the fur-lined leathers Taerl had given me, was chill enough I began to feel it needling my skin. I heard Bellek call that we should go down and rest for the night; and wondered where and how. Deburah showed me as we swooped seaward.

I had not known dragons can swim: I found out then.

They’ve not much liking for it, but they can-are they forced to it-sail the waves as readily as they command the sky.

We came down onto a darkly moonwashed sea filled with rolling billows. It was not a very great swell-I’d ridden far greater waves in my father’s boat-but even through Deburah’s calm and confident sendings, I felt afraid as we settled on that ocean. I had never been so far from shore.

She spread her wings as we landed, just as she did when we swooped on prey, and broke our fall gently, so that only a little salt water splashed my boots. Then she furled her wings and began to paddle, and it was a fond memory of nights afloat in my father’s boat, rocked by the Fend’s currents. No fear, Daviot, she told me. Only a while resting. And I trusted her-how could I not? She was my Deburah, and I knew she’d give her life for mine, and I the same-and looked about to find the others paddling toward me.

A strange alfresco dinner, that. Deburah and Anryale and Peliane and Kathanria swam, gently dozing, as we riders passed food and ale between us. The other dragons floated easy on the swell, most with heads tucked under wings like sleeping swans, and only the outrider bulls alert. Cold food, yes; but warm in its wonder-that we could eat in such manner, like drowsy fishermen riding such boats as only legend knew.

Had I a regret, it was that I could not hold Rwyan but only remain apart from her, buckled to my saddle even as I slept. But that slumber was in the cradle of the sea, and I was not unfamiliar with that: I slept very well.

And woke startled to the beat of dragons’ wings as Bellek shouted us awake and we took flight.

It was not yet, dawn. The sky was opalescent: that thin gray that presages the sun’s rising. On land there should have been birds chorusing the new morning. Here there was only a brightness in the east and the gray roll of waves against Deburah’s flanks. I gasped and clutched the saddle as she rose.

In moments we were in the sky again, climbing up to meet the rising sun, winging onward toward Ahn- feshang.

Night was come before we reached the islands.

I saw them first as jagged outlines lit by the moon. They minded me of the Dragonsteeth, but sea-washed. They seemed all sharp and rugged, without smooth places where men might live, limned by the breaking surf that bathed the shores, and inland all obdurate peaks and wooded valleys that must surely defy habitation or farming. Each island was dominated by vast peaks that painted the night sky with a faint red glow, as if the earth gusted hot breath against the night.

Then I heard Bellek call, asking where we should best descend to deliver our message.

And Tezdal answer, “Ahn-khem, where the High Ones of the Attul-ki build their dozijan.”

I asked, “Shall it be safe?”

And got back negative laughter as Tezdal advised me, “I doubt any of this enterprise shall be safe, my friend. Think you we’ll find a better welcome here than in Kherbryn?”

Rwyan said, “Perhaps we should wait.”

“For what?” Tezdal demanded, and even though it was Peliane sent me his voice and Deburah translated the words, still I heard an echo of wild desperation. “To give my people time to gather? To oppose us harder, that more die? No! We do this now or not at all.”

There was a terrible finality to his tone, as if he reached a decision and would not grant himself time to think on it, but implement it before dissuasion gain a hold. Nor did he allow us time, but drove Peliane on in a furious beating of her sable wings, so that even the bulls were outpaced and we could only follow after.

Over wave-washed beaches we swept, a vast red-mouthed mountain rising deadly magnificent above us. Across tilled fields and wooded valleys; I saw the lights of scattered villages, and rivers tumbling down steep slopes to find the sea. And then I cried aloud in unalloyed wonder as I saw the skyboats hung about the mountain. They drifted on mooring lines all down the slopes. They seemed to me like piglets clamoring for the sow’s teats. There were hundreds; or when I thought of all those red-lipped crags, likely thousands.

I had not believed so many could exist. I had not thought so many hides could be found and sewn together. I