Mazeweaver, page 13
Then they reached the caves, and Aliya saw her first real dragons.
There were two of them, working at the entrance of a cave filled with fire and steam. They looked much more draconian than Quantum. Still the same basic lizardine shape, with the same forest green scales, but maturity had carved out the ridges of their cheekbones and spines, giving them a fierce, craggy look. They were about the size of horses, though their bodies sat much nearer the ground, and their heads were on a level with Aliya’s own. Huge, finely scaled wings tipped with spikes were folded along their backs. Fire-lit and wreathed in sparks, they were majestic and overwhelming creatures.
‘What are they doing? It’s like a volcano.’ Aliya watched in horrified awe as one of them eased a stone trough onto its side and sent a stream of lava flowing into a mould, while the other dragon used his fists and claws to shape something red-hot that gave off a cascade of sparks whenever it was hit.
‘Blacksmithing,’ Quantum said. ‘That’s iron they’re working – much stronger than the bronze you use.’
They passed more caves where dragons were industriously working, many with monkey helpers. In one, a dragon was breathing a stream of tightly-controlled flame onto a heap of sand, which, Quantum explained, would transform it into glass. One elderly dragon with fading scales was basking in the weak sunlight and scratching delicate markings onto a wax tablet.
‘Writing,’ Quantum said before she could ask. ‘That would take too long to explain.’
‘I know what writing is.’ She’d seen Luca do it when she’d eavesdropped on his life. It wasn’t her fault her people didn’t have an alphabet to use. Another task that would be down to her, no doubt, if she ever got a break from putting out other people’s fires.
The studious dragon wiped wax from the end of his claw and gave a luxurious stretch, ruffling his wings like a hawk. Then, spreading his wings so wide they cast Aliya into shadow, he took off and spiralled up into the clear sky. The wind of his passage blew the braids back from her face as she lifted her gaze to watch his glorious flight.
With a joyful trill, Quantum leapt off her shoulder and joined him in the air. They looped and dived together, Quantum’s extraordinary wings catching the sunlight and throwing refracted glimmers across the valley floor. All around, dragons looked up from their tasks and murmured in awe.
Quantum dropped back onto her shoulder, breathless and smug, and she walked onward, her feet heavy on the ground.
On their other side, the orchard ended and they passed a field being cleared after the harvest. A blinkered donkey was harnessed to the largest plough Aliya had ever seen, with multiple blades instead of just the usual one. A dragon overseer was trying to instruct a group of monkeys to plough the field in straight lines, but straight lines didn’t seem to be part of the apes’ nature, and every time the dragon moved closer to correct their course, the donkey brayed nervously and veered away.
Even without understanding the words he used, it was easy to read the dragon’s body language. Head tipped back to the sky, he took a series of deep breaths for patience, then lowered it and spoke to the monkeys slowly and calmly ... for about five seconds, until one of his little minions tried to swing on the donkey’s tail, and a thin plume of smoke started to rise from the dragon’s nostrils.
Aliya stifled a laugh. This was even worse than trying to get her little brother to do farm work. ‘Don’t they ever snap and eat someone?’
Quantum looked scandalised. ‘Of course not. Civilised people don’t kill their servants. If anyone did something like that, they’d be Burdened.’ He shuddered. ‘Criminals have weights strapped to their wings. Iron balls are attached by chains through the delicate membrane at the base; if they try to fly, the wings tear, maiming them. It teaches self-control.’
Aliya’s heart twisted and she ran a comforting hand along Quantum’s back. Nature had punished him with flightlessness, marked him as if he were a criminal.
The monkey leading her squeezed her hand and spoke a couple of words that needed no translation: they had arrived. A large cave entrance loomed before them, far too even to be entirely natural. A dragon with gold bands around his upper forelegs appeared in the doorway.
The dragon whistled like birdsong, a cross between a jackdaw and a thrush, but resonating around a vocal cavity large enough for a dozen of those birds to nest in.
‘I’d appreciate it if we could speak in Islaskian so my friends can understand,’ Quantum replied stiffly.
The dragon shot them a disparaging glance. ‘Very well,’ he replied. ‘My family were just about to have dinner, if you’d care to join us?’
He turned and led them into the mountain, Aliya’s group following in a huddle. Behind them, two monkeys pulled closed massive wooden doors, leaving the sunlit evening outside. Aliya squinted in the expectation of darkness, but the cave was lit by glowing crystals hung along the smooth walls. No, she couldn’t call this a cave – it was the most luxurious place she’d ever seen, a series of interconnected rooms layered with woven carpets, wooden furniture draped with furs, and exotic paintings hanging from the walls.
Aliya touched one of the glowing crystals. ‘Magic?’
Quantum snorted. ‘Technology.’
Kai muttered, ‘Same difference.’
‘Ooh, I don’t like this,’ Meriel said, buzzing in circles. ‘Underground, and the air smells of fire.’
‘Don’t worry,’ said Quantum, ‘that’s the heating system. We drill thermal vents down to magma pockets in the semi-dormant volcanoes.’
That did not sound like a comment that should be preceded by the words ‘don’t worry.’ Anything to do with volcanoes was worrying.
A curving hallway led them to a large room with a glazed window overlooking the valley. A low table dominated the room and lounging around it were the rest of the dragon’s family. He introduced his partner and their half-grown daughter, who was the same size as Fennik. All their names were unpronounceable yet captivating.
Aliya’s heart gave an exuberant double beat. Actual dragons. They were so extraordinary, legends come to life. Her stomach twisted. She’d never thought of Quantum like that. He was incredible – his wit and intelligence and loyalty – but even though she loved him she’d never regarded him as this special. Did she truly see him as that much less because of his lack of wings? How must he have felt growing up surrounded by people who saw only what he wasn’t?
Fennik was exiled to the corridor with a bone and the humans joined the dragons around the table. The dragons sat on their hindquarters like dogs so that their short front legs were free to use; the smaller dragons had wooden blocks to sit on to raise them high enough. Aliya sat on the floor between them and felt very small and provincial. Everyone here was so wealthy; luxuries like metal and glass were everywhere. Even her spoon was metal instead of wood. She surreptitiously examined her cutlery, trying not to appear overawed. The spoon had an upward curving hollow handle, which was explained when the dragons slotted one of their foreclaws into the hole.
A pair of monkeys came in bearing steaming bowls, and Aliya was pleased to see that the food didn’t look too far from the human norm, although meat did predominate.
‘Where did you get your wings gilded?’ the young dragon asked Quantum. ‘They’re beautiful. Mother, could I have my wings plated with gold?’
‘No,’ her mother replied, but then asked Quantum, ‘Is such a thing becoming the fashion, then? They are glorious, but doesn’t the added weight make it harder to fly?’
‘They’re not gilded,’ Quantum said. ‘They’re made of metal.’
‘Ingenious!’ the father exclaimed. ‘The blacksmith who can do such work must be highly regarded indeed.’
Quantum flexed his wings, showing how the metal flowed seamlessly into his scale and bone. ‘Metallurgy can’t achieve anything like this. Only magic can.’
There was an uncomfortable silence.
‘So, Kai,’ the female dragon said, changing the subject, ‘it is very early in the season for you to come trading. Are you peddling half-cured pelts these days?’ She wrinkled her nose at the leopard skin that Aliya had worn through the mountains.
‘It’s not trade that brings me here,’ Kai said.
‘What, then?’ she asked, polite but condescending.
Aliya stiffened. Sure, Quantum was regularly condescending, but he’d earned that right. She didn’t have to accept it from anyone else.
‘Shaman’s business,’ she said.
The juvenile dragon sniffed daintily. ‘We don’t have time for primitive superstitions.’
‘Be polite, stripling,’ her father commanded. ‘Humans are intelligent creatures in their way.’
Aliya took a slow, deliberate breath. She had come here to find out what the dragons knew about the origins of the curse—and, hopefully, its weaknesses. She couldn’t afford to piss these sanctimonious nitwits off.
‘I’m looking for information to cure Quantum’s fits,’ she said, ‘if you don’t think that would tax my understanding too much.’
Quantum rolled his eyes as Kai muffled a grin. What? She’d almost managed to be polite.
‘Fits?’ the young dragonet asked Quantum. ‘Do you have epilepsy, then?’
But the mother looked apprehensive. ‘Don’t be obtuse, daughter. We all know what ... fits ... she means. Our best scientists are working on it. We don’t need outside help, thank you very much.’
‘Are your scientists here?’ she asked. ‘Searching under the mountain?’
The dragon family regarded her in confusion. ‘Why would they do that?’ the male asked.
Why? The miasma of rage was like a pulsing heart – this close, it was impossible to ignore. Yet only she could feel it; even the dragons’ great ‘scientists’ could not. The source of the corruption that invaded their minds was invisible to them. How would they ever be able to overcome it?
‘The great conclave in the capital tomorrow will provide answers,’ the female said.
Quantum speared a spare rib on the end of a claw and stripped it down to the bone. He licked his lips. ‘It’s been too long since I tasted chilli pepper.’
Aliya tried a piece of meat from the same dish and wheezed in shock at the fiery burn in her throat.
Quantum laughed, saying, ‘I told you – dragons are more resilient in every way. It will only burn for a minute and then I will burn the very meat from your bones—’
‘Meri! It’s happening again!’ Aliya shouted as she dived away from the table, dragging Kai with her. Meriel pounced on Quantum, compressing the air above him and flattening him onto the ground, where he continued to writhe and shriek. But now the huge male dragon was rearing up, shoving the heavy table aside and scattering dishes and food across the floor, screaming out in his own language; and his partner responded with a jet of flame that narrowly missed him, setting a wall-hanging alight. They both still had spoons dangling from their claws, giving the whole scene an element of farce. Until the blood started flying, and there was no room for any humour. Their daughter looked between them in terror before darting for the door.
The female almost stamped on Aliya without even seeing her, and Meriel leapt to her defence, thickening the air pressure around the dragon. But the dragon, who must have weighed at least five hundred kilos, shook off the pressure with a roar, sending Meriel tumbling through the air to crash into the wall.
Aliya lunged to catch her friend’s falling body, which settled into her hands as light and insubstantial as a snowflake.
‘I’m sorry,’ Meri said groggily. A controlled burst of wind sent Kai and Fennik skidding across the floor and into Aliya’s side. Meriel hardened the air around them into a protective bubble just in time to intercept another jet of flame. For a moment, they were enclosed in white-hot fire, then the flames dispersed and they could see that the elegant dining room had become a tragic battleground. The two adult dragons were fighting with claws and teeth and flame, ripping apart their beautiful home and tearing gashes into each other’s skin. Quantum had attached himself to the female’s rear leg and sunk his teeth into her calf.
Fennik howled, the sound trapped inside their little sphere reverberating through Aliya’s skull.
Quantum was caught by the edge of a tongue of flame and screamed in pain. Aliya looked desperately at Meriel, but the sprite said helplessly, ‘This is the best I can do. We can’t let him in here with us.’
Aliya wanted to howl just like the wolf. She couldn’t watch her friend being torn apart.
As abruptly as it had started, it was over. The three affected dragons looked around in horror at the devastation they had wrought. The male had a deep gash over his eye, dripping dark green blood; Quantum was mostly unhurt, probably because he was so small he’d been overlooked by the adults.
Meriel let the protective bubble burst with an exhausted sigh.
‘No,’ Aliya muttered, ‘you clearly don’t need my help at all. I wonder if any of my needles are strong enough to sew up dragon hide.’
Guardians of the Galaxy
I’m carrying a toddler in a big saucepan. She squirms. A lot.
‘Just hypothetically,’ I ask Tarn, ‘what would happen if I spilt you?’
‘I’d sink into the water table and trickle home, of course,’ she says. ‘It would take weeks, and I’d be very annoyed with you. So, don’t drop me.’
We come out of a patch of woodland and can see Treebeard’s sapling halfway up a grassy slope. Why are there so many hills?
I lower the saucepan down at the base of the oak and flop onto the damp grass. Tarn stands up inside the pot and bows, a strangely adult gesture. ‘Greetings, guardian of the woods.’
Treebeard returns her gesture. ‘Greetings, guardian of the waters.’
‘Yes, greetings, greetings, guardians of pomposity,’ says Happy, buzzing around us. ‘Now we are all here, shall we begin?’
‘Is everyone here, though?’ I ask. ‘Are there more elementals I don’t know about?’
‘We’ve been all over London,’ says Sneezy, ‘and only found two other buildings who are awake. Earth elementals, both old churches. Very polite. Very boring.’
‘I can deal with boring,’ I say. Boring means neutral. It feels like I’m drawing up sides for a war, and although there are more elementals on my side it still feels like we’re outnumbered. By an enemy of one. A very big, scary one.
I wish I knew what it was planning. I’ve set up alerts on my computer for any mentions of The Shard in the news. Yesterday, the police had to be called to break up an altercation between a group of businesspeople in a sandwich shop in the arcade. They were fighting over the last quinoa salad. I mean, I know London people can be pretty aggressive, but coming to blows over salad seems out of character. Especially quinoa salad. Surely people have enough greed already to keep the Mantis sated – why does it need to make them feel more? What could it possibly need all that energy for?
I dig my hands into the cold grass to hide their shaking. This is all getting too big. I’ve been keeping shamanism inside a neat little bubble: these few friendly elementals, helping my sister and my friends. Now, the whole world is trying to get in. I’m not sure if I can expand my bubble to include everyone, or if it will pop.
‘Am I doing enough to help you guys? I know I’ve planted one of your acorns down in Kent, Treebeard, and I promise I’ll plant more, but you told me they have to be spread out, and I don’t have the chance to travel much—’
‘Trees have never needed human hands to grow,’ he interrupts. ‘There are many more tree spirits germinating across the world.’ A smug note entered his voice. ‘But I will always be the eldest.’
‘What about you, Tarn?’ I ask. ‘What can I do to help the water elementals?’
‘Oh, I’ve already gone all over,’ she says, ‘although most of my sisters don’t want to come into London. Thames won’t go lower than Windsor. Soon there will be enough of us to have a mother in the ocean.’
My head’s spinning. ‘And I’m supposed to keep track of all this? Just me?’
‘Maybe your task should be training more shamans, not concerning yourself with our affairs,’ Treebeard suggested.
‘But there are no other shamans!’
‘There will be,’ he assured me. ‘Now we are here, the balance will be kept.’
It’s starting to drizzle a bit. I put my hood up. There are moments when I can’t believe this is my life. This is the future of the world. A stick figure. A toddler in a saucepan. A bunch of invisible crossword solvers. A hot mess of queer teenager who’d rather make up with their girlfriend than save the world.
‘I’m scared,’ I tell my little tribe. ‘A metal elemental. A totally new thing. An elemental made by humans! Anything it does is our fault. My fault.’
‘Humanity can be held at fault for many things,’ Treebeard grumbles.
‘It’s not Luca’s fault,’ Tarn says, crossing her arms and pouting. ‘We like Luca.’
‘I suppose we do,’ Treebeard agrees.
My heart overflows. Aliya is always at a disadvantage with the elementals in her world: they were there first, and she’s the new kid on the block, jostling for attention. I’m so lucky: these quirky characters all have infinitely more power than me, but I’ve been in their lives since they were born, and they respect me.
‘We like Luca, but The Mantis is going to squash them like a bug. Like a little bug by a much bigger bug!’ Doc says. The other air sprites turn cartwheels and titter musically.
Okay, so ‘respect’ might not be quite the right word. But at least they like me.
‘Can’t you guys talk some sense into The Mantis?’ I ask.
‘The Mantis already makes sense,’ says Treebeard, ‘it is just a sense that conflicts with your aims. And with our very nature. All of us here grow in concert with the natural world; we enhance it and depend upon it. This new being grows by reaping nature. It thrives on the very forces that previously destroyed the elementals of this world. What you humans call progress, and what we call death.’ He sighs. ‘I will soon be sleeping through the long winter months. I do not know if I will wake again. A lot depends on you, dreamwalker.’
