Dreamtrail Dragons |
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Chapter 4 |
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| The girl tosses restlessly in her bed, unable to sleep. Her mind ranges back over the events of the previous month. She shies away from memories of the last full moon and the morning after, remembering instead the way her brother has been so quiet and distracted, as though half his mind was trapped elsewhere. She shudders at the thought. Every night since the last full moon she had crept into her brother’s room. And every night she had seen him, lying limply in a web of moonlight. She glances at the book in her lap. The cover shows the same picture as it did that morning a month ago, the web of moonlight filled with fog. At last, her eyes close. Her tired body overriding her mind, she falls into her dream. [ligne][/ligne] I am falling through the air, my wings trailing uselessly behind me like flags. I try to bring them down, but I can’t. I’m falling, falling, faster and faster, the wind rushing past me. The ground is getting closer. I can’t stop. I’m falling. Help! [ligne][/ligne] The girl wakes; clutching convulsively at the bed frame, gasping for breath, her heart pounding with fear. She lies still, her heart and breathing slowly returning to normal. As she waits, she plans. How to stop the fall? How to stop the fall so she can rescue her brother, rescue him in both worlds? Gradually her racing mind slows, and she once more falls asleep. [ligne][/ligne] I am falling again, the ground closer than the first time. But this time I do not panic. I lean downwards, turning my fall into a dive. Now that I have control, I slowly extend my wings, shallowing off. Once I am flying properly again, I call, and the white dragon appears beside me. With her here, I turn my attention to the faint tug I feel pulling me towards my brother, wherever the humans have taken him. We fly swiftly, the night darkening to a rich navy studded with starry pinpoints of light. A cloudbank emerges ahead and we dive into it, emerging on the other side in dry air retaining much of the day’s heat. The moon is rising ahead of us, a glowing orb morphing gradually from golden yellow to cool silver. As the moonlight bathes the red ground below, we suddenly see what we are looking for. A dark huddle of shapes appear below, lit occasionally by a faint flickering glow. We glide in silently, our wings making no more than a whisper in the night air. Instinctively landing in the empty central square, we are greeted by a soft cry. Next to a wall covered with fantastical carvings, the sun dragon crouches, trapped inside a metal cage. My anger rises as I see that the cage is tiny, even for such a small dragon, with barely enough room to turn around. I stalk up to the bars and grab one in my jaws. I pull; muscles straining in my neck as the metal bar slowly pulls free. The silence is shattered by the screech of metal, closely followed by confused shouts as people wake to find their prize escaping. I toss the bar aside and grab another, the white dragon working beside me. The shouts behind us are becoming more organised as torches are lit and the men begin to rally. At last the gap is wide enough and the sun dragon crawls out, stretching and spreading his wings. At that moment a crowd of men round the corning into the square. They are armed with bows, spears and nets, obviously intent on recapturing the sun dragon and any others with him. I panic. There is not enough time to get into the air and out of range. As we stand there, frozen, I feel my panic change, focus. A huge gust of wind comes at us out of the still night, flinging us into the air. It departs as suddenly as it appeared. Following in its wake, a hail of spears and arrows rise from the men below. The sun dragon roars in anger and the approaching shafts burst into flames, drifting harmlessly to the ground as ash. I expect to see another wave of arrows come towards us but they don’t. Looking closer, I see that each of the men in the square is bound by threads of moonlight. Threads leading to the white dragon. I roar with victory and a brisk breeze springs up, carrying us swiftly away from these humans with their nets and cages. I look back briefly, at the square where the men are starting to mill around, joined by others from the houses. In the centre of the growing chaos a man stands in a bubble of calm. He is staring towards us, a pale apparition with pale blonde hair and a white robe. “Tell her,†I hear his voice as though standing next to me, “tell the Seeker the time is coming.†I shudder and the wind strengthens, the man vanishing into the darkness behind us. At last the island comes into sight and we land, our wings aching despite the helping wind. We collapse together on the floor, asleep almost before hitting the ground. [ligne][/ligne] It is just before dawn when the girl wakes. She shivers for a moment, remembering the blonde man and his strange warning. She leaps up as she remembers the rest of the dream, running quietly to her brother’s room. The boy lies curled in his bed, trapped by moonlit strands. Suddenly, he twitches, pushing against the net that surrounds him. In response, the threads fade, dimming until they almost vanish. The boy sighs softly, uncurling and relaxing once more into sleep. The girl smiles with relief as she creeps back to her room, he is free. |
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