dragon bard (beta)
Chapter ten: the frost hits
This is a work in progress, meant for newsletter subscribers only! Please keep the link private, and excuse any typos, etc--fully edited book to come fall 2021!
Kantalo was up before dawn, moving quietly in the ringlight to check the dragons, get water boiling, and try to talk to Galesea.
“Just a little fire,” he said, soothingly, running his hand up the inner part of her neck where she liked to be scratched. “Just enough to convince her you understand. No one believes us, Gale!”
She shifted, tail scales clicking against her thigh.
Kan sighed. “I know you don’t care. But I do. It could change so much for you. For both of us.”
She flicked her lids, the dragon equivalent of rolling her eyes.
“Just—give it a try, okay? I don’t want to look like an idiot in front of Rena.”
He had a sinking feeling how much Galesea cared about that, too.
They shared a simple breakfast of dragon porridge, Rena making faces though he’d put double sugar in it.
“It’ll help you,” Kantalo said. “The blood is bitter, but it gives you a little bit of their ability. You know, to withstand the cold. To transfer it, so you keep more heat.”
“I know,” she grimaced. “I just—I don’t think even a thermagent could keep warm out here.”
His eyebrows rose. “Are those—real?” Everyone had heard stories of the empire’s magical assassins, with the ability to steal the heat right out of someone’s body, or the soul from their chest.
Rena’s smile was dark. “They’re real. So you going to show me what your dragon can do, or what?”
“Fifteen minutes,” the warden said, looking up from his porridge.
“Or what?” Rena arched an eyebrow. “You’ll leave me?”
“Just—keep it quick, all right?”
“Poor guy’s in love with me,” Rena muttered once they were out in the caldera yard.
Big surprise, Kaden almost said. “I—see. Well. It’s probably a pretty lonely job, being a warder.”
“He has a wife and kids. So which dragon is it?”
“This one,” Kan said. “You can tell them apart by their coloration—Galesea’s from the north, where they have a lot of copper in the stone, so her scales have that orange color, with a green patina. Every dragon has a slightly different shaped scale, too—hers are kind of leaflike.”
She glanced at him. “Have you ever seen a leaf?”
“In our gardens.” He hated the defensive note that came into his voice.
She whistled. “Ever seen a tree?”
“They have a couple in Portown. But I’ll get across the water someday. I’ll see it all.”
“Trust me,” she said, sounding suddenly older than she looked. “There’s not that much to see. Nothing like these.” Her eyes lit up as she turned to Galesea.
Kan grinned. “She’s amazing, isn’t she? Gale,” he said, running a ringed finger along her neck. “Stand up and let her see you.”
Amazingly, Galesea did, stretching her body from head to tailfin, scales clattering. Maybe she’d changed her mind about not caring.
Rena said nothing, but Kantalo could see the curiosity in her eyes, almost a desire.
“You feel it too,” he said. “The way they could be more than they are. Do more.”
“So much more,” she breathed, eyes never leaving Galesea. “What else can you make her do?”
Right. “Gale,” he said, reaching up to click his rings along her flank—her neck was too high to reach like this, “show us some fire.”
She stretched again, kicking one clawed leg behind her.
“Gale. Come on. Show us what you can do.”
She craned her head around to look at him, and despite not having facial expressions, he could swear she was laughing at him.
“So you can… talk to it?”
“To her. Yeah. Always have.”
She leaned closer, gazing at Galesea. “Can you talk to the other ones?”
Kantalo bit his lip. “I can understand them, but for the most part they don’t seem to want to talk to me.”
Rena narrowed her eyes. “What’s Galesea thinking, right now?”
Kan glanced up at the dragon. Probably how many stupid things I do to try to impress girls. “She’s—considering whether to show us fire. She doesn’t want to do it, for some reason.” He emphasized that by arching his neck at her.
“But she’s under the lull, right? Shouldn’t she do whatever you want her to? Isn’t the whole problem that we haven’t been able to get them understand more than pull this, and stop there?”
He chuckled. “Galesea doesn’t care about the lull. We go without it all the time, when we’re out of the caldera.”
“You go without it?” Her expression closed some. “That would be suicide.”
“No, I do, really! You want to see?”
The warden had to walk out of the house just then. Rena pursed her lips. “Maybe some other time, huh? Thank you, though.”
“Galesea,” Kantalo said, emphasizing it with a hard string of clicks along her side. “Show us fire.”
She continued to stare at him like he was asking her to waltz. Rena cleared her throat. “I should probably get my things.”
“Galesea, can you fly at least? Show her that. Show her the lull doesn’t affect you. That you’re here because you want to be.”
More stares. A grunt from the warden. “Coming!” Rena called, and she was back in the house.
“Truthsdamn it, Sea, couldn’t you just show her a little bit?”
The dragon snorted and rubbed her tail against her ridge, as if to say What, and make that thing like you? I don’t think so.
Kantalo sighed, walking over to send the two off, heart aching like a hatchling left out in the cold. A hatchling Galesea could have kept warm.
“So you’re off to Tumbaga, then?” he asked, trying not to sound disappointed. “Going to learn smithing?” Tumbaga was one of the biggest settlements on the continent, and the center for everyone who wanted to train in smelting and smithing, which was what most people ended up doing here, aside from dragon tending.
Rena shook her head. “Heard they’re experimenting with using dragons in the smithies. I want to see what they’re doing. See if I can help.”
Kantalo slowed. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?”
She looked back, eyes still strikingly green in that lovely round face. “All my life, I dreamed of seeing dragons. Of finding a way to harness all that power. And when my parents died?” A shadow passed over her eyes, but she shrugged. “There was nothing to hold me back. Except this powers-forsaken cold you all live with.”
He summoned a grin. “That’s what we have dragons for. And blood porridge.”
“I’ll stick to my furs,” she said, summiting the last of the steep stairs.
“Well, see you around, huh?”
She nodded, eyes already on the distance. “Good luck with your dragon.”
He wanted something more, some words at least to make this more real. To solidify what her visit had been to him. “I’ve—never met anyone like you. Like me. I mean, someone who cares about them like I do.”
“Then maybe we will meet again. Goodbye, Kantalo Windsdirge. Winds favor you.”
“And snows carry you,” he said, using the local variation on the parting, though he knew they said seas carry you in the old world, referring to their seas of grass.
“Come on,” the warden grunted, shooting Kantalo a mistrustful glance. He felt a spike of worry, then, but Rena seemed like a girl who knew how to take care of herself. Or who knew what she was doing, at least. She was so confident, even though she obviously knew so little about life here. And so passionate about dragons.
He watched till the glare of sun on ice swallowed them. She was the only person he’d ever met who cared like he did. Yelia was just a pretty face in comparison. And those eyes...
“I didn’t even get a chance to play her my songs,” he said to Galesea once he was down. She just huffed.
The morning stretched into afternoon and on into evening in the usual way. No Yelia, but he was almost glad of it. He couldn’t feel as excited about seeing her as he had. Not after Rena.
Galesea started acting odd in the afternoon—he would have thought she was still complaining, except that all the dragons got restless as the sun fell. Almost like the lull wasn’t working, or was losing time, but he checked and rechecked it—it was fine. Then as the first shadow of evening touched the caldera’s walls, Galesea stood and with a huff took to the air.
Kantalo stared. That was odd. He’d always known she could, that the lull didn’t affect her like it did the others, but--
Across the caldera, Sleetbank stood too, a hatchling in each claw. Fear struck him like a tail to the guts. He started running. Sleetbank never stood.
Then a sudden wind howled, and a shadow fell across the caldera. An impossibly large shadow. Impossible except--
Kantalo looked up, and met a massive pair of eyes descending. Blue, smoldering, intelligent eyes, set into a skull nearly the size of the caldera.
The eyes of an ancient.
“Just a little fire,” he said, soothingly, running his hand up the inner part of her neck where she liked to be scratched. “Just enough to convince her you understand. No one believes us, Gale!”
She shifted, tail scales clicking against her thigh.
Kan sighed. “I know you don’t care. But I do. It could change so much for you. For both of us.”
She flicked her lids, the dragon equivalent of rolling her eyes.
“Just—give it a try, okay? I don’t want to look like an idiot in front of Rena.”
He had a sinking feeling how much Galesea cared about that, too.
They shared a simple breakfast of dragon porridge, Rena making faces though he’d put double sugar in it.
“It’ll help you,” Kantalo said. “The blood is bitter, but it gives you a little bit of their ability. You know, to withstand the cold. To transfer it, so you keep more heat.”
“I know,” she grimaced. “I just—I don’t think even a thermagent could keep warm out here.”
His eyebrows rose. “Are those—real?” Everyone had heard stories of the empire’s magical assassins, with the ability to steal the heat right out of someone’s body, or the soul from their chest.
Rena’s smile was dark. “They’re real. So you going to show me what your dragon can do, or what?”
“Fifteen minutes,” the warden said, looking up from his porridge.
“Or what?” Rena arched an eyebrow. “You’ll leave me?”
“Just—keep it quick, all right?”
“Poor guy’s in love with me,” Rena muttered once they were out in the caldera yard.
Big surprise, Kaden almost said. “I—see. Well. It’s probably a pretty lonely job, being a warder.”
“He has a wife and kids. So which dragon is it?”
“This one,” Kan said. “You can tell them apart by their coloration—Galesea’s from the north, where they have a lot of copper in the stone, so her scales have that orange color, with a green patina. Every dragon has a slightly different shaped scale, too—hers are kind of leaflike.”
She glanced at him. “Have you ever seen a leaf?”
“In our gardens.” He hated the defensive note that came into his voice.
She whistled. “Ever seen a tree?”
“They have a couple in Portown. But I’ll get across the water someday. I’ll see it all.”
“Trust me,” she said, sounding suddenly older than she looked. “There’s not that much to see. Nothing like these.” Her eyes lit up as she turned to Galesea.
Kan grinned. “She’s amazing, isn’t she? Gale,” he said, running a ringed finger along her neck. “Stand up and let her see you.”
Amazingly, Galesea did, stretching her body from head to tailfin, scales clattering. Maybe she’d changed her mind about not caring.
Rena said nothing, but Kantalo could see the curiosity in her eyes, almost a desire.
“You feel it too,” he said. “The way they could be more than they are. Do more.”
“So much more,” she breathed, eyes never leaving Galesea. “What else can you make her do?”
Right. “Gale,” he said, reaching up to click his rings along her flank—her neck was too high to reach like this, “show us some fire.”
She stretched again, kicking one clawed leg behind her.
“Gale. Come on. Show us what you can do.”
She craned her head around to look at him, and despite not having facial expressions, he could swear she was laughing at him.
“So you can… talk to it?”
“To her. Yeah. Always have.”
She leaned closer, gazing at Galesea. “Can you talk to the other ones?”
Kantalo bit his lip. “I can understand them, but for the most part they don’t seem to want to talk to me.”
Rena narrowed her eyes. “What’s Galesea thinking, right now?”
Kan glanced up at the dragon. Probably how many stupid things I do to try to impress girls. “She’s—considering whether to show us fire. She doesn’t want to do it, for some reason.” He emphasized that by arching his neck at her.
“But she’s under the lull, right? Shouldn’t she do whatever you want her to? Isn’t the whole problem that we haven’t been able to get them understand more than pull this, and stop there?”
He chuckled. “Galesea doesn’t care about the lull. We go without it all the time, when we’re out of the caldera.”
“You go without it?” Her expression closed some. “That would be suicide.”
“No, I do, really! You want to see?”
The warden had to walk out of the house just then. Rena pursed her lips. “Maybe some other time, huh? Thank you, though.”
“Galesea,” Kantalo said, emphasizing it with a hard string of clicks along her side. “Show us fire.”
She continued to stare at him like he was asking her to waltz. Rena cleared her throat. “I should probably get my things.”
“Galesea, can you fly at least? Show her that. Show her the lull doesn’t affect you. That you’re here because you want to be.”
More stares. A grunt from the warden. “Coming!” Rena called, and she was back in the house.
“Truthsdamn it, Sea, couldn’t you just show her a little bit?”
The dragon snorted and rubbed her tail against her ridge, as if to say What, and make that thing like you? I don’t think so.
Kantalo sighed, walking over to send the two off, heart aching like a hatchling left out in the cold. A hatchling Galesea could have kept warm.
“So you’re off to Tumbaga, then?” he asked, trying not to sound disappointed. “Going to learn smithing?” Tumbaga was one of the biggest settlements on the continent, and the center for everyone who wanted to train in smelting and smithing, which was what most people ended up doing here, aside from dragon tending.
Rena shook her head. “Heard they’re experimenting with using dragons in the smithies. I want to see what they’re doing. See if I can help.”
Kantalo slowed. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?”
She looked back, eyes still strikingly green in that lovely round face. “All my life, I dreamed of seeing dragons. Of finding a way to harness all that power. And when my parents died?” A shadow passed over her eyes, but she shrugged. “There was nothing to hold me back. Except this powers-forsaken cold you all live with.”
He summoned a grin. “That’s what we have dragons for. And blood porridge.”
“I’ll stick to my furs,” she said, summiting the last of the steep stairs.
“Well, see you around, huh?”
She nodded, eyes already on the distance. “Good luck with your dragon.”
He wanted something more, some words at least to make this more real. To solidify what her visit had been to him. “I’ve—never met anyone like you. Like me. I mean, someone who cares about them like I do.”
“Then maybe we will meet again. Goodbye, Kantalo Windsdirge. Winds favor you.”
“And snows carry you,” he said, using the local variation on the parting, though he knew they said seas carry you in the old world, referring to their seas of grass.
“Come on,” the warden grunted, shooting Kantalo a mistrustful glance. He felt a spike of worry, then, but Rena seemed like a girl who knew how to take care of herself. Or who knew what she was doing, at least. She was so confident, even though she obviously knew so little about life here. And so passionate about dragons.
He watched till the glare of sun on ice swallowed them. She was the only person he’d ever met who cared like he did. Yelia was just a pretty face in comparison. And those eyes...
“I didn’t even get a chance to play her my songs,” he said to Galesea once he was down. She just huffed.
The morning stretched into afternoon and on into evening in the usual way. No Yelia, but he was almost glad of it. He couldn’t feel as excited about seeing her as he had. Not after Rena.
Galesea started acting odd in the afternoon—he would have thought she was still complaining, except that all the dragons got restless as the sun fell. Almost like the lull wasn’t working, or was losing time, but he checked and rechecked it—it was fine. Then as the first shadow of evening touched the caldera’s walls, Galesea stood and with a huff took to the air.
Kantalo stared. That was odd. He’d always known she could, that the lull didn’t affect her like it did the others, but--
Across the caldera, Sleetbank stood too, a hatchling in each claw. Fear struck him like a tail to the guts. He started running. Sleetbank never stood.
Then a sudden wind howled, and a shadow fell across the caldera. An impossibly large shadow. Impossible except--
Kantalo looked up, and met a massive pair of eyes descending. Blue, smoldering, intelligent eyes, set into a skull nearly the size of the caldera.
The eyes of an ancient.