Shieldwolf Dawning (16 page)

Samarra stepped between them. With one hand she stopped Whistler from entering the cave, and with the other hand she prevented Brin from getting any closer to Whistler.

"You're going to get us killed," she warned. "If Suthum really lives in there, and if Suthum is what they say she is, then…"

Whistler furrowed his fluffy brows in concentration. "You might have a point… I'll stop, for now. But I
will
return one day, and I
will
find out the truth. You'll see."

"I believe you. I really do." Samarra sighed in relief and turned her back to the cave. "How did you get here in the first place?"

"I went through the tunnel. You—" he pointed at Brin, "—left the door open. Anyone could have wandered into Suthum's Cradle. The Shieldwolves wouldn't even know until their next patrol of the area."

Brin caught Samarra's eye. "I didn't leave it open. Did I?"

Samarra couldn't remember closing the magical door. "I think we might have."

"Oh no." The bands on Brin's cheeks darkened in shame. "How could I have forgotten?"

"Write it on your hand next time," Whistler said with a bite.

Brin growled and bunched up his fists. "Be quiet, fat guts."

"Worry about that stuff later," Samarra interrupted, wishing more than anything that they would stop arguing. She was running out of patience. "Right now we have to find a way out of here. Whistler, do you know how to get back to the tunnel?"

"Of course I do. What kind of Shieldwolf-in-training would I be if I went dragonwatching without the proper equipment?" He reached into his front pocket and pulled out his tablet. He brought up a three-dimensional compass rose and pointed east. "We have to go that way."

Samarra took one last look at the cave. "Let's go." She gestured at Whistler. "Lead us back to the tunnel, okay? This place smells like rotting cabbage and other things too gross to think about." Samarra waited for an answer, but there was no response. Whistler had fallen quiet and still. The feathers on his head lay flat against his skull. "Are you all right?" She poked his wing gingerly.

"I feel like I'm going to—" His beady eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed face-first at Samarra's feet.

"Hey, wake up!" She nudged the side of his round body with the tip of her boot.

Brin tapped his tail on the ground nervously. "I feel like we're being watched. Can we go now?"

"What do we do with him?" Samarra pointed at the unconscious figure. "We can't just leave him here."

"Yes we can," Brin said. "We didn't force him to come."

"That's not right." Samarra frowned disapprovingly. "Who knows what might happen to him? What if the dragon finds him? We have to take him with us."

"Look at the size of him!" Brin exclaimed. "Half my height and twice as round. He's as fat as butter. How are we supposed to get him back to Shieldwolf Proper?"

"We have to try." Samarra attempted to lift Whistler, but he was too heavy.

Brin wrinkled his snout in disgust. "Let me see if I can lift him onto my back." He grabbed a limp wing and heaved Whistler onto his upper body, struggling to move along with the heavy load. "I can't… Quick, grab him. He's slipping off my back."

Samarra tried to take some of Whistler's weight, but she tripped over a rock and fell to her knees. Whistler came crashing down on top of Brin.

"Get him off me!" Brin shouted and pushed the weight off his back.

When Samarra managed to pull Whistler away, Brin sprang to his feet and dusted himself off as if he had been exposed to a contagious disease.

"Get over it." Samarra dragged Whistler down the path. When she noticed that his head was banging against rocks with every other step she took, she stopped and slumped down on a patch of grass. "What do we do now?" She checked her holowatch. "We have to be back in less than two hours."

There was no answer.

"Brin?" Brin was silent. Samarra looked up. "Aw, not you too."

Brin was frozen in place like a statue. His mouth was open, his sharp teeth on display. His face was streaked with dark brown fear stripes.

A hot breeze passed by Samarra's cheek and immersed her in the stench of rotting cabbage. Samarra had a feeling she knew what was coming. Her heart thumped loudly in her head.

"This one will do nicely for dinner," came a gravelly voice behind her.

Samarra did not move a muscle. Maybe the creature would go away if she pretended it wasn't there. She closed her eyes.

"Charred or rare? That is the question," the voice said.

Samarra grew more anxious. She forced herself to stand up and turn around on the count of three.

A magnificent dragon stood at the mouth of the cave. Her glimmering scales reflected shifting hues of gold and green as she hobbled to Samarra. Suthum was at least twenty feet tall and three times as long from her horn-rimmed head to her forked tail. Her pale green underbelly was rough and leathery. Her flaring right nostril was pierced with a silver stud, and her powerful wings had been bound together with strong magical chains. She carried heaped bunches of seaweed in her sharp teeth. Her long neck dipped and wrinkled when she dropped the seaweed on the ground.

"Why do the Kairu do that when they see me?" she asked, glancing at Whistler and Brin. "Is my appearance so menacing that I reduce them to terror at first sight?"

Samarra stared at the dragon with awe. "I can't speak for the others, but I think you're beautiful."

"Well, thank you." Suthum dropped her head so that her face was eye-level with Samarra. Her breath was ferocious. "Why do
they
hate me so much?"

Samarra glanced around furtively. She searched for the best place to run in case things got ugly. "I think it's your reputation."

"Reputation!" Suthum snorted out clouds of smoke. "Shieldwolves are very good at twisting words to serve their interests. I am sure the Kairu have not heard the dragon's side of the story, have they?" Suthum dropped her front legs and sat back on her scaly haunches. She picked up a ribbon of seaweed and placed it delicately in her mouth. "Where are my manners? Would you like some fresh kelp?"

"No thank you." Samarra tried not to cringe at the sight of fresh kelp. She patted her stomach. "I had a big lunch."

The dragon smiled and chewed her food.

"So you're not going to eat me?"

"Eat you?" The dragon laughed. "Why would I do that? I cannot stomach the taste of gaians." She nodded at Brin. "Platophibians are no better. Archeop, on the other hand, are delicious." The dragon licked her thick gold lips.

"You're going to eat Whistler?" Samarra grew nervous. "You can't do that."

"I most certainly can."

"No!"

"Little girl..." The dragon narrowed her mercurial eyes. "You cannot begin to imagine my miserable existence. The Shieldwolves think they know best by caring for me in this prison of rock. But what do they know about care? What do they know about what I need or what my dragonling needs?" She whacked her long tail on the ground and stretched out to her full size. Smoke fumed out of her flaring nostrils. "The Shieldwolves instil terror in the Kairu by spreading lies about me. They have prevented me from flying away from this place by binding my wings with magic dust." Her voice grew deep and thick with rage. "Their laws have taken away the freedoms that I, a majestic dragon, rightly deserve. They have done this for the sake of the biosphere, and, I am told, for the sake of my dragonling." Her voice rumbled in her throat and she lifted her head up high with the pride of the ancients. "The Shieldwolves may have taken away my freedom, but they will never take away my taste for crunchy archeop!"

Samarra was speechless at the dragon's impassioned performance.

Suthum rolled up a ribbon of seaweed and popped it into her mouth and frowned. "I have grown tired of kelp and berries." She nodded at Whistler. "Be thankful that he is the one I have chosen. You and the platophibian may go." Her voice softened in warning. "The archeop will stay for dinner."

"No... no… that's not right." Samarra raced to the dragon and held up her hands pleadingly. "You have to let all of us go, or I'll... I'll..."

"You will what?"

Samarra stomped around and kicked up the grass when she realized there wasn't much she could do. What did she know about dragons? How could that information work to her advantage? What could she say? She thought about all these things as she paced around in circles. The dragon watched in amusement. Samarra stopped and scowled. "Why are you smirking?"

"Smirking?" The dragon's belly rumbled. "I find your loyalties to the archeop curious. What has he done for you?"

Samarra tried to think of a good answer, but nothing was forthcoming. "He's a swain — we have that in common, so I want to help him."

Suthum kept eating. "Gaians baffle me. You are the least respected species on Kairuhan, yet many of you would lay down your lives for those who look down on your very existence. Stupid, but fascinating." She extended her sharpest claw and picked out another strand of seaweed. "I would like to eat in peace. You may go."

Samarra walked to Brin as slowly as she could without looking obvious. She hoped to find a solution to help Whistler. She had almost reached him when she had an idea. She went back to Suthum. "Let's make a trade."

"A trade?" Suthum's eyes glistened. "I have not traded since I was brought here after the death of my life mate many years ago. What will you give me for the archeop's life?"

Samarra had read about dragons and their taste for shiny objects. She took off her holowatch. Samarra loved her watch, but she was willing to give it up for Whistler. "I'll give you my watch. This is one of a kind. Unique. You'll never find another on Kairuhan."

Suthum yawned.

Samarra held her breath.

"No thank you," the dragon replied. "Sparkling treasures such as this no longer impress me. I am more interested in treasures with substance. I prefer the archeop." She hobbled to Whistler.

Samarra blocked the way. "Wait!"

The dragon stopped and fixed on Samarra.

"Hang on." Samarra rummaged through her pockets for something else, anything that would appeal to the dragon. When she felt the coolness of the diamond sphere, she smiled. "I think I have the perfect treasure for you."

"Gaian, waste no more of my time."

"No, really." Samarra insisted. Her hands shook as she wrapped her fingers around the sphere. "I think you'll like it a lot." Her heart was a ticking bomb.

"Oh? What kind of treasure?"

"This." Samarra stood on her tiptoes and held up the sphere for the dragon to see.

Suthum gasped. The gold specks in her green eyes were prominent. "A fruit of sublimation. Why do
you
have this in your possession?"

"What do you mean by that?" Samarra felt hurt and didn't know why.

"These fruit have recently started to bloom again since the Battle of Hokken Sol." Suthum looked intently at Samarra. "There are not many on Kairuhan. They are guarded by armoured steel golems in the vaults of Shieldwolf Proper. To have access to one signifies a position of power. You are only a little girl."

"How do you know all this?"

Suthum snarled in disgust and shook her wings. "That is also where the magic dust that unlocks these chains is kept."

Samarra ignored the horrible feeling in her stomach. She knew that if she didn't go through with her plan, Whistler would end up as dragon dinner. "Why is the fruit so precious?"

"The fruit is a component of the magic that allows the bearer to cross the Reflection, to phase through dimensions, to access any place in the known multiverse. With the right words, the fruit can also be used to phase large groups around Kairuhan, and much more." The dragon trembled in excitement. She reached for the sphere, but Samarra pulled away quickly.

"Umm… I'm not so sure about this anymore. I think I should give it back to the Shieldwolves. Maybe I can bring you something else?"

The dragon roared. "You made me an offer and I accepted." Suthum's tone sounded inflamed. "Give me the fruit of sublimation and you may have your archeop."

Samarra had no choice but to hand over the fruit. Suddenly, her plan seemed too feeble for words.

Suthum grinned. "Do you understand what you have given up for this archeop?" She studied the fruit closely. "One fruit is worth over a hundred of his kind… maybe even a thousand. The gold you would have received from selling this treasure on the black market would have surpassed your wildest dreams." Suthum dropped her head until her snout was almost touching the side of Samarra's face. "Little girl," she whispered in Samarra's ear. "In future, do not let your compassion lead you to your demise."

Samarra stepped away from the dragon, looked her in the eye, and said bravely, "One life is worth more than all the gold in the world."

The dragon laughed. "You are still young. With the passage of time you will come to learn that the moral decision is not always the best decision." Suthum held the fruit in her claws as though she were holding a newborn baby. "Your companions will regain consciousness soon enough." She nodded at Whistler. "Warn him to never return. He might not be as lucky the next time I catch him in my cradle." With that, Suthum walked away. "I must tend to my offspring," she added and disappeared into the cave.

Samarra rushed to Whistler and shook him gently, but nothing she did could wake him. She did the same to Brin with no success. Samarra wanted to scream in frustration, but instead, she sat down and put her head in her hands.