Dragon Rider
Page 3

“Then we must just try living in harmony with them,” suggested another dragon.
But Slatebeard shook his head. “No,” he said. “No one can live in harmony with human beings.”
“Oh, yes, they can.” Rat stroked her wet coat. “Dogs and cats do, and mice and birds, even us rats. But you,” she said, letting her gaze roam over the dragons, “you’re too big, too clever, and,” she added, shrugging her shoulders, “too different! You’d frighten them. And when something frightens human beings they —”
“They destroy it,” the old dragon said wearily. “They almost wiped us out once before, many, many hundred years ago.” He raised his heavy head and looked at the younger dragons one by one. “I’d hoped they would at least leave us this valley. It was a foolish hope.”
“But where are we to go?” cried one of the dragons in despair. “This is our home.”
Slatebeard did not reply. He looked up at the night sky, where the stars were still hidden behind clouds, and sighed. Then he said huskily, “Go back to the Rim of Heaven. We have to stop running away sometime. I’m too old. I shall crawl into my cave and hide, but you younger ones can make it.”
The young dragons looked at him in surprise. The rest of them, however, raised their heads and looked eastward, their eyes full of longing.
“The Rim of Heaven.” Slatebeard closed his eyelids. “Its mountains are so tall that they touch the sky. Moonstone caves lie hidden among its slopes, and the floor of the valley in the middle of the mountains is covered with blue flowers. When you were children we told you stories about the Rim of Heaven. You may have thought they were fairy tales, but some of us have actually been there.”
He opened his eyes again. “I was born there, so long ago that eternities lie between that memory and me. I was younger than most of you are now when I flew away, tempted by the wide sky. I flew westward, on and on. I have never dared to fly in the sunlight since. I had to hide from humans who thought I was a bird of the devil. I tried to go back to the Rim, but I could never find the way.”
The old dragon looked at his young companions. “Seek the Rim of Heaven! Go back to the security of its peaks, and then perhaps you will never have to flee from humans again. They aren’t here yet,” he said, nodding toward the dark mountaintops around the valley, “but they will come soon. I have felt it for a long time. Don’t linger. Fly! Fly away!”
All was perfectly still again. Drizzling rain as fine as dust fell from the sky.
Sorrel hunched her head between her shoulders, shivering. “Oh, thanks a million,” she whispered to Firedrake. “The Rim of Heaven, eh? Sounds too good to be true. If you ask me, the old boy dreamed it up.”
Firedrake did not reply but looked up at Slatebeard thoughtfully. Then he suddenly stepped forward.
“Hey!” whispered Sorrel in alarm. “What’s the idea? Don’t do anything silly.”
But Firedrake took no notice. “You’re right, Slatebeard,” he said. “In any case I’m tired of living in hiding, never flying outside this valley.” He turned to the others. “Let us look for the Rim of Heaven. Come on, let’s set out today. The moon is waxing. There’ll be no better night for us.”
The others shuddered as if he had taken leave of his senses. But Slatebeard smiled for the first time that night. “You’re still rather young, Firedrake,” he pointed out.
“I’m old enough,” replied Firedrake, raising his head a little higher. He was not much smaller than the old dragon, but his horns were shorter and his scales shone in the moonlight.
“Here, hang on! Wait a mo!” Sorrel scrambled hastily up Firedrake’s neck. “What’s all this nonsense? You may have flown beyond these hills all of ten times, but,” she said, spreading out her arms and pointing to the mountains around them, “but you’ve no idea what lies farther off. You can’t just fly away through the human world, looking for a place that may not even exist.”
“Be quiet, Sorrel,” said Firedrake crossly.
“Won’t!” spat the brownie girl. “See the others? Do they look as if they want to fly away? No! So forget it. If human beings really come I’m sure I can find us a nice new cave!”
“Yes, listen to her,” said one of the other dragons, moving closer to Firedrake. “There’s no such place as the Rim of Heaven except in Slatebeard’s dreams. The world belongs to humans. If we hide here they may leave us in peace. And if they really do come to our valley, well, we’ll just have to chase them away.”
At this Rat laughed. Her laughter was shrill and loud. “Ever tried turning back the tide?” she asked.
But the dragon who had spoken did not answer her. “Come on,” he told the others, and he turned and went back through the pouring rain to his cave. They followed him one by one, until only Firedrake and the old dragon were left. Slatebeard, his legs stiff, climbed down from the rock and looked at Firedrake. “I can see why they think the Rim of Heaven is only a dream,” he said. “There’s many a day when it seems like a dream to me, too.”
Firedrake shook his head. “I’ll find it,” he said and looked around. “Even if Rat is wrong and the human beings stay where they are, there must be some place where we won’t have to hide. And when I have found it I’ll come back and fetch the rest of you. I’ll set out tonight.”
The old dragon nodded. “Come to my cave before you leave,” he said. “I will tell you all I can remember, even though it isn’t much. But now I must get in out of the rain or I won’t be able to move my old bones at all tomorrow.”
With difficulty, Slatebeard trudged back to his cave. Firedrake stayed behind with Sorrel and Rat. The brownie girl was perched on his back, looking fierce. “You idiot!” she said quietly. “Acting the big hero, right? Off to look for something that doesn’t exist. I ask you!”
“What are you muttering about?” asked Firedrake, turning his head to look at her.
This was too much for Sorrel. She lost her temper. “And who’s going to wake you when the sun sets?” she demanded. “Who’s going to protect you from human beings? Who’s going to sing you to sleep and scratch you behind the ears?”
“Yes, who?” asked Rat sharply. She was still sitting on the rock where the old dragon had stood.
“Me, of course!” Sorrel spat at her. “Tedious toadstools, what else can I do?”
“Oh, no, you don’t!” Firedrake turned so abruptly that Sorrel almost slipped off his wet back. “You can’t come!”
“And just why not?” Sorrel folded her arms, looking offended.
“Because it’s dangerous.”
“I don’t care.”
“But you hate flying! It makes you airsick!”
“I’ll get used to it.”
“You’ll be homesick, too.”
“Homesick for what? You think I’m going to wait here till the fish come and nibble my toes? No, I’m going with you.”
Firedrake sighed. “Oh, very well,” he murmured. “You can come. But don’t blame me afterward for taking you along.”