the dragon arched her back and admired the sunlight glinting silver off her deep blue scales. Beautiful beyond words. Yet even this wonder could not distract her keen eyes and keener nostrils from what was even more important than her glory.
Food moved in a clearing far below her. A doe, fat with summer graze, ventured too bravely out into a forest clearing. Foolish thing! Once no deer would have moved into the open without first casting a watchful glance above. Had dragons truly been gone so long from the world that the hoofed ones had discarded their wariness of the sky? She would soon teach them better. Tintaglia tucked her wings and plummeted. Only when she was so close that there was no possibility the deer could evade her did she give voice to her hunt. The musical trumpet of her Ki-i-i as she stooped split the morning peace. The clutching talons of her forelegs gathered her kill to her breast as her massive hind legs absorbed the impact of her landing. She rebounded effortlessly into the air, carrying the deer with her. The doe was shocked into stillness. A swift bite to the back of her neck had paralysed her. Tintaglia carried her prey to a rocky ledge overlooking the wide Rain River Valley. There she lapped the pooling blood of her meal before scissoring off dark red chunks to sate her hunger, flinging back her head to gulp them down. The incredible sensory pleasure of eating nearly overwhelmed her. The taste of the hot bloody meat, the rank smell of the spilled entrails combined with the physical sensation of loading her gut with large pieces of sustenance. She could feel her body renewing itself. Even the sunlight soaking into her scales replenished her.
She had stretched herself out to sleep after her meal when an annoying thought intruded. Before she had made her kill, she had been on her way to do something. She considered the play of sunlight on her closed eyelids. What was it? Ah. The humans. She had intended to rescue the humans. She sighed heavily, sinking deeper into sleep. But it wasn’t as if she had promised them, for how could a promise between one such as herself and an insect be considered binding on one’s honour?
Still. They had freed her.
But they were probably dead and it was doubtless too late to rescue them anyway. Lazily, she let her mind drift towards them. It was almost annoying to find they were both still alive, though their thoughts were the merest humming of a mosquito now.
She lifted her head with a sigh and then roused herself enough to stand. She’d rescue the male, she compromised with herself. She knew exactly where he was. The female had fallen into water somewhere; she could be anywhere by now.
Tintaglia paced to the edge of the cliff and launched herself.
‘I’m so hungry,’ Selden quavered. He pressed himself more tightly against Reyn, seeking body warmth that Reyn himself was rapidly losing. Reyn couldn’t even find the spirit to reply to the shivering boy. He and Selden lay together on a mat of tree limbs that was gradually sinking into the rising muck. When the mud consumed it, it would devour this last hope as well. The only opening out of the chamber was far overhead. They had attempted to build a platform of debris, but as fast as they piled up fallen earth and tree limbs, the muck swallowed them. Reyn knew they were going to die here, and all the boy could do was whine about being hungry.
He felt like shaking some sense into him, but instead he put his arm around Selden and said comfortingly, ‘Someone must have seen the dragon. My mother and brother will hear of it and guess where she came from. They’ll send help.’ Privately, he doubted his own words. ‘Rest for a bit.’
‘I’m so hungry,’ Selden repeated hopelessly. He sighed. ‘In a way, it was worth it. I saw the dragon rise.’ He turned his face to Reyn’s chest and was still. Reyn let his own eyes close. Could it be as simple as this? Could they simply go to sleep and die? He tried to think of something important enough to make him go on struggling. Malta. But Malta was likely dead already, somewhere in the collapsed city. The city itself was the only thing he had cared about before discovering Malta, and it lay in ruins all around him. He’d never unearth its secrets. Perhaps dying here and becoming one of its secrets was the closest he would ever get to it. He found his heart echoing Selden’s words. At least he had freed the dragon. Tintaglia had risen, to fly free. That was something, but it was not a reason to go on living. Perhaps it was a reason to die content. He had saved her.
He felt another tiny quake. It was followed by a splattering sound as loose earth cascaded from the opening above them to splash into the muck. Perhaps the whole ceiling would cave in; that would furnish him a quick end.
Cool air wafted past his face, heavy with the scent of reptile. He opened his eyes, to find Tintaglia’s pony-sized head thrust down into the chamber. ‘Still alive?’ she greeted him.
‘You came back?’ He was incredulous.
She didn’t reply. She had pulled her head out and her taloned forepaws were tearing at the earth around the opening. Rocks, dirt and bits of ceiling rained down within the chamber. Selden awoke with a cry and cowered against Reyn. ‘No, it’s all right. I think she’s trying to rescue us.’ Reyn tried to sound reassuring as he sheltered the boy from the falling debris.
Earth and stone trickled down and the hole overhead grew larger. More light found its way into the chamber. ‘Climb onto this,’ Tintaglia suddenly commanded them. A moment later her head entered the chamber, a stout section of tree trunk gripped firmly in her jaws as if she were a terrier who had fetched a stick. The breath from her nostrils steamed in the cool chamber and the stench of reptile was overpowering. Reyn summoned his last strength to stand up and lift Selden so he could scrabble up onto the log. Reyn caught hold of the other end. As soon as he gripped it, she lifted them. They snagged for a moment in the opening, but she tore the log free with a fine disregard for how weakly they clung to it. An instant later, she had set them down on mossy earth. They sprawled upon an isolated hummock of land amidst the swampy forest, the long-buried dome beneath them. Selden staggered away from the log and then collapsed, crying in relief. Reyn tottered, but found he could stand. ‘Thank you,’ he managed.
‘You are not obliged to thank me. I’ve done as I said I would.’ She flared her nostrils and a blast of steamy breath briefly warmed him. ‘You’ll live now?’ It was as much statement as question.
His legs began to shake and he dropped down to his knees to keep from collapsing. ‘If we can get back to Trehaug soon. We need food. And warmth.’
‘I suppose I can take you there,’ she conceded unwillingly.
‘Thank Sa,’ Reyn breathed as fervent a prayer as he had ever uttered. He drove himself to his feet and lurched over to Selden. He bent over and seized the boy, intending to lift him, found that his strength was not enough and managed only to pull Selden to his feet. Half-dragging the boy, he lurched towards Tintaglia.
‘I’m exhausted,’ Reyn told her. ‘You will have to crouch down for us to climb onto your back.’
The dragon’s eyes spun in silver disdain. ‘Crouch?’ she demanded. ‘You upon my back? I think not, human.’
‘But…you said you would take us to Trehaug.’
‘I shall. However, no creature will ever bestride me, least of all a human. I shall carry you in my talons. Stand before me, together. I shall gather you up and carry you home.’
Reyn looked dubiously at her scaled forefeet. Her claws were silver, gleaming and sharp. He did not see how she could clutch them tightly enough to carry them without impaling them. He glanced down at Selden, to find the boy’s upturned face mirroring his doubts. ‘Are you afraid?’ he asked him quietly.
Selden considered for a moment. ‘I’m more hungry than I am afraid,’ he decided. He straightened himself. His eyes roved over the dragon. When his gaze returned to Reyn, his face shone.
