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I know nothing of smithery, but without him and the song that sings in my blood, the sword I carry would not have been reforged.
Sednar roared then, and the smith climbed on her back. She spat fire, and jumped into the air, circle around once, and landed again. I could see the smith holding on for dear life.
Some are dragon riders born, others are dragon riders made. Do not worry. He will adjust, and learn what he needs.
X
Suddenly, Ulrike and Arboris, the twins and me — we cried out at the same moment.
THE TREE, THEY ARE ATTACKING THE TREE MOTHER!
Kara’s dragon leapt into the air. I must go to warn my people, and prepare them. I will give them the book of Id, so they can use it to prepare for the fight as well. On this dragon it will take but a moment. The rest of you go, and make haste. I will meet you once I have talked to my father, and set my people marching towards the forgotten city.
Woltan nodded. Take the smith with you.
Two dragons sailed off towards the land of the Kriek.
There are other dragons who would love to fight.
Let them come too, then.
Then we were all flying, and after a moment the stone mountain was behind us, and below us was the green forest. From the air I could not see the road we had followed, but I could feel the tree mother, and her agony, and the agony of the forest. There was fire, but most of all there were axes, steel cutting into woodflesh. Ulrike and I took the lead, our dragons dwarfing the others.
I sent a mental image to my dragon. Can you see where we are going?
Yes, Anders. What took you all the night should take us but a few moments longer. But I hope we will be there in time. We will roast and split the enemy, rend them asunder. We have not battled with keiler or humans for a long time, but we have kept ourselves fit battling among ourselves.
Images of dragon battle flashed through my mind.
Elias was just behind me; I could feel him. Can you see anything, Elias?
I think your friend Gerard is there. And a lot of keiler. And some minor wizards, and a lot of soldiers. Just a few humans, mostly wizards. The soldiers are goblins, and a few trolls. A couple of dozen kobolds. All chemical lovers, nature-haters. If you reach out you can use your dragon’s mind as well to help you speak words of power. Ask if it’s alright, first.
I addressed myself to Yesenia. Can we do magic together, like Elias said he can?
Think of a simple spell, and we’ll try.
I thought for a moment, and then I opened my mouth, and opened my mind to Yesenia. Together we spoke: Fernsehen.
My eyes were telescopes, suddenly — I could see all the way to the mother tree, to the aura of the tree mother itself, red with rage, and my mind connected with her. We are coming, mother.
I saw the kobolds that Elias had described, with little torches, blistering the wood; and the trolls with giant axes, hacking away at the resistant magical hardwood. Other trees were burning, but the mother tree was not. Arrows fell down upon the kobolds, but they were covered in armor, like the trolls, and even the keiler.
You could see all that?
Yesenia spat fire. If only I had not. That was a powerful spell. I felt like we were there; I wanted to bite and spit and breathe fire and feel the crunch of troll spine under my teeth.
Will it be much longer?
We dragons are not very good with time. But your mind has taught me many things already. I think we have to wait only minutes, not hours. Try to rest a little.
I closed my eyes and tried to relax as I held on with my arms to Yesenia’s neck. How was I supposed to relax when I was hundreds, if not thousands of paces up in the air, on dragon back, holding on with all my might, my hands and legs already numb from the lack of movement and the cold air?
In the days of old there were harnesses. When we get to this place where Kara went, perhaps they can make some. Then you can really rest. For now, though, I will sing in my mind a song for you: a song of my hatching, and of my childhood, when the world was very different from how it is now.
In my mind I heard song, that moved from my mind down to my chest and out to my limbs, and b
rought warmth back to them. The song was music; it was like a flute and a tuba and horn combined, and all of it made for dragon throat; but it was also color, and sensation: heat, and darkness, and bright green light. Every so often I caught images as well as more sensations: an enormous egg in a giant nest on top of a mountain; cracks in the egg; a hatchling knocking its way out of the egg beak-first. The knock of the beak against the eggshell, hard as rock. First flight underneath the mother dragon; the taste of dragon milk. First flight by moonlight, and the opening of the third eye, while in flight; and seeing life underneath rush by in all its glowing splendor. First sparring in mid-air, with a cousin. First battle with an air-demon, a thousand paces up in the sky.
