Wings of Fire (The Legend of Hooper's Dragons Book 7) Page 3

  Phigby shrugs. “I had hoped that you would know for I do not.”

  “No,” Amil replies and scrunches his face together as if in deep thought, which causes his eyebrows to form a thin line over his eyes. “But if he or she or it does know where Vay’s otherworld gate is located, it places them in grave danger.”

  “Indeed,” Phigby agrees, “I’m not sure that Vay would share that information with anyone but her most trusted lieutenants. Perhaps not even them.”

  “Such as Bazyl?” I ask.

  “Such as Bazyl,” Phigby nods.

  Soft snoring causes us to turn and stare toward Alonya. She smiles and points down at her lap to the pixies. “I guess the conversation was too boring. They fell asleep.”

  “But of course,” Phigby grumps, “anytime we have a discussion of grave import they nod off to sleep.”

  “No problem, professor,” Amil returns, “have us start talking about food and they’ll come wide awake and stay awake as long as the topic is eating.”

  “To that I would agree,” Phigby answers. “Still, in this case, they probably have the best idea yet as we’ll not find any of our answers sitting around conversing about things we know nothing about.”

  He turns to Talia. “On the morrow, you can get us to the mainland from here?”

  With a small nod, Talia says, “Yes, but it is a long way for the dragons with no islands on the way to stop and rest. I brought us here as this is the easternmost island and closest to the mainland.”

  “How long will we have to sky before we make landfall?” I ask.

  “A day and most of the night,” Talia answers.

  “Hold on,” Amil rumbles. “I thought you MerDraken kept to yourselves and never ventured outside your waters and never let anyone inside your realm.”

  “You got in, did you not?” Talia returns.

  “Well, yes,” Amil frowns, “but that was a little different. We had a golden dragon with us.”

  “Which made it a lot different,” Snag snorts.

  Talia’s smile is of one who knows and is keeping secrets. “Yes, the MerDraken keep to themselves for the most part, but that does not mean we don’t know what lies outside our waters. We would be a foolish people to think that nothing lies within or goes on in the Great Beyond. So, on occasion, when it suits us, the Outer Island clan sends scouts out in all directions.”

  Her smile grows a bit mischievous. “You would be surprised what you can learn when you lie submerged in a harbor and only rise to the surface for a breath and a quick look around, or to listen to the conversations taking place on an anchored ship.

  “Sailors hear and see many things as they sail from port to port and aren’t afraid to talk about it when they stand watch with their shipmates. And usually, it’s about the bad things that are happening in the world.”

  “Like Vay?” Amil grunts.

  “Like Vay,” Talia acknowledges and turns to gesture toward Golden Wind, “and the coming of a golden dragon.”

  “Amazing,” Alonya returns, admiration evident in her voice. “And how long have your people been doing that?”

  “For as long as I can remember,” Talia answers, “though once the Sung Dar started attacking, we, of course, had to pull our scouts back to fight those scum.”

  “Too bad,” Tavin frowns, “we don’t have the services of a few of your scouts now. It’d be nice to know what we’ll find once we hit the mainland.”

  “True,” Talia nods, “but I’m afraid that with the numbers of sea-riders we lost, it was best that the remainder guard the home islands.”

  “So,” Amil sighs, “once again we’ll be skying somewhat blind or do you know what we’ll find?”

  Talia shakes her head. “I know the rough locations of a few of the main ports but nothing beyond that, I’m afraid.”

  “As I said,” Amil scowls, “skying blind.”

  “Then,” Phigby orders, “since the distance is that great, first thing in the morning, we each get one drink of water and a bit of cruller bread. The dragons get the rest of our water and food. They’ll need it far more than we.”

  “Agreed,” Alonya replies as she rises, lifting the three sleeping pixies with her. “And I shall take the first watch.”

  “I the second,” Helmar states.

  “I’ll greet the dawn,” Marce states, “and wake the camp.”

  As the group breaks up and we head for our dragons, I can’t help but notice that no one has brought up the ode’s warning to fear a friend. I’m grateful, for I’m afraid that it would have been neither a pleasant nor a productive conversation but rather the complete opposite, and would have led to anger and hurt feelings. Still, it is vexing and only adds to my sizeable load of worries.

  As I walk toward Golden Wind, I spot movement along the beach. It’s Scamper and Silky. The two seem to be playing tag with the incoming waves as they bounce first toward the receding water and then bound away when the water rushes in.

  I stop and watch for a bit, a small smile playing about my face. “Looks fun, doesn’t it?” a voice behind me says. “A game of wave-tag.”

  Turning to Pim, I reflect, “I’ve never seen Scamper do that before. He’s usually poking his nose into everything trying to find something to eat.”

  “Must be Silky’s influence,” Pim smiles. “The question is whether it’s good or bad.”

  “Definitely good,” I smile back and turn away to make my way over to Golden Wind.

  The golden has set herself between Wind Song on one side and Wave Rider on the other. As I walk up, I find that Cara and Talia are in conversation and laughing lightly between themselves about something or other. Both flick their eyes my way as I walk up and suddenly their voices die to nothing.

  That’s not good, I think. There’s only one reason they would stop speaking when I approach. They were talking about me.

  “Hi,” I say to the two of them.

  “Uh hi,” Cara replies, her mouth working as if she were trying to hold back a smile, perhaps even a laugh. Talia’s eyes are lively, and she too has an impish look about her.

  “Should I?” Talia asks of Cara.

  Cara gives her a little shrug, her mouth turning up in an amused smile. “Why not? This could turn into a fascinating conversation.”

  Talia swings around to me. “You can talk with dragons. I saw and heard you. Don’t deny it, either.”

  I immediately throw up a hand to quieten her. “Shhh, not so loud.”

  “Why?” Talia counters. “Is it a secret?”

  “As a matter of fact, it is,” I answer.

  “Really?” Talia protests and frowns a bit. “I think it’s wonderful. I’ve never even heard of anyone that can converse with a dragon.”

  “Maybe so, but I made a promise that I wouldn’t let anyone know. Though,” I mutter under my breath, “I seem to be doing a lousy job of keeping that promise.”

  Cara has her hand on her mouth, looking for all the world like she’s trying to stifle a laugh. “And you’re not helping matters,” I growl at her.

  She doesn’t answer but flicks her eyes toward Talia, who declares, “Well, now that you’ve acknowledged that you can talk with dragons, I’m thinking of rescinding my decree that nullified our marriage contract.”

  “What?!”

  This time it’s Cara and Talia who lift hands to quieten me. “Hold your voice down,” Talia orders, “people are trying to sleep.”

  “But—but,” I sputter, “you can’t do that.”

  I glance toward Cara looking for help but she’s avoiding my stare, peering off to one side as if she were studying the drooping cruller tree leaves.

  “I’m The First,” Talia replies, “and as such, yes I can. To have someone at my side who can speak with dragons would be a marvelous boon to my realm and throne, don’t you think, Cara?”

  Cara has turned her gaze from the nearby trees to stare at her feet, a hand over her mouth. Suddenly, she starts giggling and can’t stop. She turns to Ta
lia, wiping at the tears in her eyes, “I’m sorry, I just can’t go through with it, he looks so miserable.”

  Talia looks at me and then she too starts giggling. “He does, doesn’t he?”

  The two’s snickers become louder and both cover their mouths with a hand to muffle their laughter. “I get it,” I huff, “the joke’s on me. Ha ha. Some joke. Real funny, you two.”

  Cara turns to me, still chortling, and lays a hand on my arm. “I’m sorry, Hooper, it was just too good an opportunity to pass up and after that grim war talk, we both needed something to lighten the moment.”

  My mad at the two of them lasts all of three heartbeats. “It was pretty bleak, wasn’t it?”

  “Bleak?” Talia huffs. “And here I thought we MerDraken were the masters of doom and gloom, always dredging up the direst of circumstances.”

  “Well, as Amil would say,” I shrug, “welcome to our typical dire circumstances. It seems that no sooner do we get out of one awful situation than we’re faced with another.”

  “And they seem to be getting worse,” Cara sighs, “with each passing day.”

  “May I ask,” Talia questions, “are there others in the company who can talk with dragons?”

  Cara looks at me and I shrug. “Go ahead and tell her, I guess it doesn’t matter if she knows, now.”’

  “I can talk with Golden Wind,” Cara says, “and Pim also knows about Hooper and me.” Her mouth turns down in a small frown. “I’m pretty sure that the rest of the company knows, but they haven’t said anything.”

  “Why don’t you just tell them?” Talia asks.

  I reach out to stroke the golden’s scales. “Because Golden Wind made us promise not to; she said that there would come a time when we could, but not until then.”

  Talia’s gaze goes to her sea-dragon and her eyes soften. “I would love to be able to talk with Wave Rider.”

  “Someday,” I reply, “I believe you will.”

  “Really? When?”

  “I’m not sure,” I answer with a shake of my head. “Soon, I believe.”

  Talia seems a bit disappointed at my reply. “I hope it’s very soon as it would be a wonderful blessing. But thank you, Hooper, I appreciate your telling me and I promise to keep your secret safe.”

  “You’re welcome and please, keep it to yourself.”

  She gives me a little smile. “And I apologize if I was rude. Sometimes when I get a question in my head, I can’t seem to let it go until I have the answer.”

  I flick my eyes toward Cara. “Just like someone else I know.”

  “He’s right,” Cara says to Talia. “I’m like that too sometimes.”

  “Sometimes?” I grunt.

  That earns me a glare but fortunately no elbow as I’m still bruised and sore from our battle with Vay. Talia laughs lightly, turns away to find a place on the other side of Wave Rider to sleep.

  While Cara makes her way over to Wind Song, I loosen my scabbard belt, ease down to the sand and lean up against Golden Wind’s leg. I let a long sigh escape my lips.

  “Still troubled, Hooper?” the golden whispers.

  “Yes,” I reply, “and add to that tired. Golden Wind, who is the friend that I should fear?”

  “A question that I cannot answer, I’m afraid.”

  “As usual,” I sigh, “too many questions, not enough answers.”

  Before she can reply, I whip up a hand. “I know, I know, what fun would life be if we knew all the answers in advance.”

  “Hmm, actually,” she responds, “I wasn’t thinking about fun, I was thinking what lessons in life’s test we would learn if we already had the answers.”

  “I like my answer better. I’m rotten at taking tests.”

  “Oh, I don’t know about that. Seems to me, you’ve faced any number of tests and passed most with waving colors.”

  “It’s flying colors and thanks, but I can think of a few that I miserably failed.”

  “Yes, well, none of us are perfect.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I know a couple that are close to it; you and Cara.”

  “Hooper, such flattery will get you a much less bumpy ride tomorrow, but I honestly don’t know the answer to your question though it perplexes me as well.”

  “Are you saying that you expect it to be bumpy tomorrow?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Lately, in this company,” I answer as I slide down to the sand to get myself comfortable, “it’s almost always that way.”

  With that, I fall into a troubled and decidedly unsatisfactory sleep so that when Marce wakes us earlier than expected the next morning, I am already mostly awake.

  It doesn’t take long for me to see the reason that Marce has us up and moving. The gusting wind blows the cruller leaves around, setting their curved tree trunks to swaying and sending grains of sand flying that bite against exposed skin.

  One look at the dark, scudding clouds overhead and I instantly know that Phigby’s storm is on the way. To my mind, the question is whether Vay rides these storm clouds or are they natural?

  As we gather, Amil points toward the eastern sky which seems to glow a pale scarlet as if there is a crackling fireplace behind the racing clouds. “Red sky in the morn!”

  Phigby nods and then adds, “Sailor be warned. For sure and for certain, a storm approaches.”

  “Yes,” Talia replies, “and in this region the winds will change soon to come from the direction in which we need to sky.”

  “You mean,” Amil questions, “that we’ll be bucking these winds head-on?”

  “Yes,” Talia confirms, “it is all but a certainty.”

  “How strong will the winds be?” Pim asks.

  Talia shakes her head in answer. “That I can’t answer, but gauging by the looks of those clouds racing by, I would say that our dragons will be hard put to get through them.”

  “Our coming skyride was long enough before,” Cara observes, “but if the dragons have to fight through a storm—”

  “They might not make it,” Tavin interjects, “to the mainland.”

  “What if we stay here, wait it out?” Marce questions, her voice almost drowned out by the rising wind and the snapping of the cruller trees’ leaves.

  “No!” Talia responds. “This feels like the big storms I’ve seen before and if it is, it will push water and waves over this island. You’ll drown!”

  “Go back?” Tavin questions.

  “We could,” Talia replies, “but this island may not be here when we come back. I’ve seen storms so strong that they completely wash away a small island like this one.”

  “You’re saying,” I reply, “that if we go back and then restart, we might have a two- or three-day skyride to the mainland with no island for a rest stop.”

  Talia nods vigorously in response. “At least, and unlike Wave Rider, your dragons cannot rest in the water.”

  “Three days is too far for the dragons for a single skyride without water,” Tavin states.

  For some reason, the company turns to peer at me. I return their gaze, my mind working out the possibilities. I hit upon a thought and ask, “What if we rode the winds where they take us? Would it be to a suitable island with shelter, food, water?”

  Talia turns and walks to the edge of the beach where the waves are rolling in to pound the sand. She stands there studying the sky with its racing clouds.

  After a short while, she rejoins us. Her face is grave, her eyebrows furrowed in thought. “This island,” she begins, “is on the northernmost edge of the MerDraken realm and far to the east as well.

  “These winds blow from the east and south. If we rode them, I believe we would end up near an island farther north of here that is inhabited by your people. I don’t recall its name, but it has a huge harbor and many ships that come and go. What reception we would receive there I cannot tell you.”

  “This island,” Phigby asks, “do you know the shape of its harbor?”

  Talia picks up a loose bran
ch and draws in the sand. Phigby, Amil, and Helmar bend over to study what she’s drawn and when they straighten, all have bleak looks on their faces.

  “Large harbor,” Amil mutters, “that holds many ships, shaped like a horseshoe and lies to the north and west of here. There’s only one place that matches that description.”

  Phigby and Helmar lock eyes. “Amil’s right,” Phigby declares to Helmar, “there is no other island with such a pronounced harbor. You know as well as I which island it is.”

  Helmar’s face and eyes grow hard, his eyes on Talia’s sand drawing. “I know. It’s the Duchy of Vosta and the last place on Erdron I ever want to set foot on again!”

  CHAPTER THREE

  All eyes are on Helmar, and with good reason. The Duchy of Vosta is where his sister, Britt, died at the end of a hangman’s noose. My eyes study the man’s hard, set face, the fire and ice in his eyes. I have some doubt that if we decide to sky to Vosta, he’ll go. And knowing what it’s like to face one’s demons, I wouldn’t blame him one bit.

  I glance toward Cara and can see the same torment on her face. If we decide to ride the winds to Vosta we’ll lose Helmar again. Can we afford that? Even with the strife and conflict Helmar’s brought to the company, we are less without him, and stronger with him.

  Cara turns to me with eyes that plead. “Do something!”

  “What if,” I ask, “we were to sky north and east?”

  “Put the winds on our starboard quarter,” Amil nods, “as the sailors would say.”

  “I don’t know anything about sailing,” I return, “but it seems to me that we wouldn’t face directly into the winds though they would still push at us.”

  Phigby turns to Talia. “How far out of the way would that take us?”

  Talia shakes her head. “I’m not certain, but I believe it would add time to our ride.”

  “Too much time?” Alonya questions.

  Talia gives Alonya a little shrug. “I know a bit about what lies due east of here, but not north, nor how long it would take us to reach land if we went this new direction.”

  I flick my eyes toward Helmar. The man’s face is contorted, his eyes staring straight down at the sand. I’m sure he knows that this is about him and our going, or not going, to Vosta.