Dragon Fire (39 page)

“But you don’t have wings.”

“I do,” said Lysa with a faint smile. “But not when I’m in this form.”

“But then you can change shape. You’re a shapeshifter.”

“I suppose so. I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Lysa said slowly. “But shapeshifters are Beings of Matter. They have a rök and can manipulate matter. We don’t have a rök and we manipulate light and sound.” Lysa laced her fingers. “As I was saying, there was a war. Before I was born. Thousands died. Since then we have had a tentative truce, but there are those on both sides whose hatred continues. And so we live in secret.”

“Why are you telling me, if it’s secret?” She didn’t need any more secrets to be bound to her than she already had.

Lysa didn’t answer right away. “Because Erling thinks Pemba is manipulating you. Dawa’s father, Kraal, was the leader of the Draak against the Elythia when he was alive. And we believe Yarlung, their mother, has taken his place.”

“But Pemba’s father is alive.” The story didn’t fit.

“Yes. But Pemba’s father is Khotan, one of Yarlung’s bodyguards. Not Kraal.”

Anna sat perfectly still. Was that why Pemba had said he wasn’t sure his parents loved each other? Anna looked at her Firemark. Pemba had said they were trained to track and kill. But who? the Elythia? Was that the ‘project’ Pemba’s parents were working on? “The trigger was for one of you?”

“No. The trigger was for June.”

“But why do they want to find June? She hasn’t done anything. And she has a rök, she’s a shapeshifter.”

“But she’s with Erling. And most Draak and Elythia would rather see them dead, than together.” Lysa paused. “Unfortunately, it’s one of the few things both sides agree on.”

“But you don’t believe that. Do you?”

“No. Or only when Fritjof…” She looked down. “I’m sorry I ever let myself believe any of what he told me.”

Things clicked into place. Fritjof, Lysa’s now-dead boyfriend, had hated June. “He tried to kill June in the avalanche?”

“No. He used me to try to kill Erling.”

“Why would he do that?” Anna felt lost.

“Because June is a Draak,” said Lysa. “And if he had killed her it would’ve broken the truce and started a second war. Which even Fritjof wouldn’t have wanted.”

Anna tried to control her shaking. “Why did Pemba and Dawa want to find June?” she asked, dreading the answer.

Lysa leaned forward. “To kill her.”

* * *

Yarlung crushed the letter in her hand. “How could you have been so careless?” she snarled.

“But the letter is proof that it wasn’t just a wanton attack,” replied Rakan. “Yttresken planned it. He knew T’eng Sten would come protect Dvara.”

“Of course he did. I told him to. Why do you think my guards didn’t intervene? But the idiot wasn’t able to control his pride and he fought back.” Yarlung waved her fist with the balled up letter in front of Rakan. “And this will look like proof that I sent you to bite Kariaksuq.” Yarlung spat on the floor. “No one will believe that you spontaneously tried to mate with Kariaksuq – she’s a water dragon. She’s beneath you. You need to fly an air dragon. I would have given Yuli back her rök if you needed to mate with a dragon. At least she’s worthy of your interest.”

Rakan growled. “I wasn’t trying to mate with Kariaksuq.”

“Then you’re a fool.”

Rakan paced his mother’s inner chamber, blocking out the gentle gurgling of the spring and the water that he could feel running under the rock. “Why are you calling for a trial?” he asked, keeping his voice level.

“Because T’eng Sten killed Yttresken by ripping his rök out of his chest.” Yarlung touched Rakan with her mind. “You know it’s against the Code.”

“He was only trying to stop Yttresken from letting his kais die without their röks. Yttresken was the one who was wrong, not T’eng Sten.”

“I find it interesting that you are defending T’eng Sten,” said Yarlung coldly. “Why do you care what happens to him?”

Rakan held his mother’s gaze. “I don’t,” he lied.

“Well then, if you don’t care there’s no reason to spare him.” Yarlung paused. “Although we can give him one last chance.” She smiled at Rakan. “Why don’t you offer him the chance to give me his vote in exchange for annulling the trial?”

“But you don’t need his vote,” snapped Rakan, before he could control himself.

“No, I don’t. I have the majority now that Yttresken is dead. But I wouldn’t mind seeing T’eng Sten grovel for his life. Would you?”

Rakan bowed his head, wondering if he had just sealed T’eng Sten’s fate.

Yarlung snapped her fingers and Yuli shifted into the chamber with a bow to her Kairök. “Bring Rakan’dzor to see T’eng Sten. He has a proposition to offer him.”

Yuli bowed again and turned to Rakan. “I’ll need to shift you into the Hold.” She glanced at his chest. “If I may?”

Rakan nodded, not happy that Yuli would need to touch him.

“Oh, and Rakan,” said Yarlung from her throne. “Tell him it was your idea.”

Rakan stifled a growl. “Let’s go,” he said to Yuli.

“We can stop on the way,” said Yuli, snaking her hands up his chest.

“No.”

“As you wish,” she murmured into his neck. She shifted him to the Hold.

The cold of the final wall of the Hold pierced Rakan and the deafening silence made his ears ring. His arms convulsed around Yuli, the only living thing he could feel anywhere. Even the rock didn’t respond to his mind-touch.

Yuli responded, molding her body into his. Rakan pushed her away.

“Why not? No one can hear us here.” She reached out for him again. “We’re free.”

“I need to see T’eng Sten.” He tried to feel the Kairök. But there was only Yuli. And she was in no hurry to bring him to T’eng Sten.

Yuli came close, but didn’t touch him. “You need to mate. You’ve been alone too long. Your energy is changing.” Her lime green dress shimmered and transformed into her chest armor. “It doesn’t even matter which dragon you choose. But if you don’t free your rök it will start to die. And I’d rather not see that happen.” She pointed to the wall between two torches. “He’s in there. I’ll fix the shield so that you can go through alone. Unless you want me to accompany you?”

“No. I’ll be fine.”

“As you wish.” She touched the wall, but Rakan couldn’t feel what she was doing until a rectangular space sprang alive. And through it he could feel T’eng Sten.

“Rakan,” said Yuli, stopping him as he was about to penetrate the wall. “You have Yarlung’s power and Khotan’s mind. Don’t waste it.”

Rakan looked at Yuli, wondering what she meant. But she backed away, bowing at the waist, as if he was a Kairök.

* * *

“Kairök T’eng Sten,” Rakan said, bowing as he entered the square Hold that was made of the same lifeless rock as the outer chamber. A wave of emotion filled him, T’eng Sten had saved Dvara. He put a fist to his hand in the sign of homage. “Thank you.” But T’eng Sten didn’t respond. Rakan straightened and came closer. T’eng Sten was seated on the slab of rock that was probably meant to be a bed. He looked like he was meditating with his eyes open. But when Rakan reached out with his mind-touch he could barely feel him. His body was there, but his being was elsewhere.

Rakan hissed. It wasn’t normal. He grabbed T’eng Sten by the shoulders. And spilled out onto a white plain in his dragon form. Or rather forms. He flickered between an air dragon and a water dragon. The changing forms pulsed, blurring his view. His rök burned in his chest and he bellowed in pain. He lashed out at the barren whiteness of the oppressive hell he had fallen into. Cobalt mixed with emerald flashed in the distance. “June,” he yelled. He could feel her. He tried to scramble forward, but couldn’t move. He had lost control of his body. And then the shimmering color that felt like June was gone. There was no trace, no pulsing trail left in the barren openness that threatened to burst his very being. The whiteness blinded him. Its brilliance flattened everything.

“How did you get here?” hissed T’eng Sten, pushing Rakan’s head into the sand. Before Rakan could answer, he was back on the stone floor, T’eng Sten still straddling him. T’eng Sten stood up. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Rakan didn’t get up. He pressed into the floor. Even if it was dead to his touch, it was real. He felt Yuli move in the central chamber, ready to intervene if they began to fight. T’eng Sten’s anger pounded through the room like a stampede of wild yaks. And Rakan had no intention of throwing himself in its path.

Finally, T’eng Sten’s anger ebbed and he offered Rakan a hand.

“Where was that?” asked Rakan. The whiteness burned into his eyelids.

“I was in an alternate state. It’s the only way to survive the Hold.”

Rakan looked skeptically at the Kairök. “It seems worse.” The wide open space had been the same glaring white in all directions. It was a place with no time, no change. And no smell.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be severed from all contact with other dragons.”

Rakan snorted. “I’ve never had it. How can I know?” His rök vibrated angrily, but Rakan stilled it. He’d deal with it later. “But I don’t create an alternative reality to escape.”

“I wasn’t escaping.”

“Then what were you doing? And how did you create June’s—”

T’eng Sten lunged for Rakan’s throat. “That’s none of your business.”

Rakan blocked him and they tumbled to the ground. “But maybe it is Dvara’s,” Rakan said as he flipped T’eng Sten onto his back.

“When she knows the truth about her father and Paaliaq, she’ll understand.” T’eng Sten shoved Rakan off and slammed him into the wall.

“What truth?” Rakan said, suddenly more interested in what T’eng Sten was saying than in the fight. “Paaliaq tricked Kraal and killed him. Everyone knows that.”

“And what if she didn’t?” said T’eng Sten, his breath on Rakan’s face. “What if Kraal tricked Paaliaq and she only killed him in self-defense? Have you ever even considered that?”

Rakan felt a rush of anger flow through him. He clenched his fists and forced his rök back into control. “No, I haven’t. Why should I?”

“Because there are several theories about why they fought. And what happened when they did. You should at least know what they are before you decide to kill Paaliaq.”

“But Yarlung felt Kraal die when they smashed to the earth.”

“Yes. He did. Everyone agrees on that. But what happened to Paaliaq?”

“She went into hiding.”

“That’s Yarlung’s theory. But I felt Paaliaq being frozen into a Fragment of the Red Planet by my Kairök at the time. I felt it and there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

Rakan could feel T’eng Sten’s memory. He was telling the truth. “But others must have felt it too,” said Rakan. “Why did they grant Yarlung ten cycles to find Paaliaq here?”

“Because there were those who believed she could morph into more than one dragon form, which no dragon in the history of the Red Planet had ever been able to do. And it scared them so much that they even began to believe that she could split her being into three parts, one for each form – making her essentially invincible.”

Rakan stood silently, his brain refusing to process what T’eng Sten had just said. No one could morph into more than one form. And yet he had. But from there to splitting his being into several parts? He sank onto the stone slab, unable to speak.

“I grew up in a time when Kraal was the Mighty, the Unbeatable,” continued T’eng Sten. “He was pitch black, the color of purity, of perfection. Every acolyte came out of the Arena hoping to be taken into his Cairn. The biggest, the best, the strongest of all the Cairns. But Paaliaq refused his offer to join his Cairn. And after she became a Kairök in her own right, she challenged Kraal during the Games. And won. He vowed to kill her for it. And that was when I began to disagree with my Kairök. I realized that Kraal wasn’t the hero I thought. But Paaliaq was. She never mentioned having beaten him at the games. But for Kraal it was enough that everyone knew. He told everyone she had tricked him to win, that all she wanted was to destroy the Kairök system so that she could rule the planet by herself.”

Rakan stared at T’eng Sten. His version was so different from his mother’s. And yet he could feel that T’eng Sten believed what he was saying.

“Neither Kraal nor Paaliaq are here. Their history is over. But we need to live again, to move on, to breed. We’re dying on the Fragments, Rakan. We need to be able to come to Earth. No matter what happened in the past. It’s time to start a new life.”

Rakan felt a wave of warmth and returned it. “Khotan says the same thing.”

“Khotan is a great scholar and his gifts are being wasted. He should be teaching but we have no puppies for him to teach. We need to free Earth. If we grant Yarlung more time, it will be too late for many of the Old Dragons to breed.” Pain and anger erupted from the Kairök. “Or dead with Yarlung’s stupid inter-Cairn machinations.”

The cell was flooded with sorrow. He leaned into the Old Dragon, comforting him. “How many did you lose?” The pain of those who died without their röks had been so overwhelming that he hadn’t felt who else had died.

“Five,” said T’eng Sten, his voice flat. “Angalaan was one of them.”