Page 183 of Dragon Champion (Age of Fire 1)

AuRon would get nowhere with the dwarves in the Delvings; he could shout all he wanted, but from a safe distance he could not be heard over the roar of the falls. He was reluctant to try the door he had entered with Djer years ago. It was undoubtedly guarded by further war-machines. He looked over at the field with the wraxapod calf. The dwarves would not leave a valuable animal unattended.

Sure enough, a pair of dwarves was pulling at a chain about the calf’s elephant-height neck. AuRon turned and flapped over to the field. The herders dropped their leads and ran for the trees.

“I mean you no harm,” AuRon called. “I’m an old friend of the Diadem—I can prove it.”

The dwarves did not stop for conversation until they were well under the trees. “We’ll listen to no more ultimatums, dragon!” a voice shouted from the undergrowth. It echoed oddly. The dwarf was using some kind of speaking-trumpet that made the sound hard to place. “This is not a war of our starting, but unless you’re here to beg for peace through our mercy, you’re wasting your time.”

“I’ve nothing to do with the others. I seek Djer, a Partner in the Chartered Company. I bear his signet.”

“Djer? He’s in no shape to talk, dragon. The work of your kind.”

AuRon felt a stab, a pain fiercer than the wound in his wing. “May I alight in safety?”

“We’ll do nothing to harm you. What’s left of our warriors are all at the Delvings.”

AuRon landed, frightening the wraxapod calf so that it lumbered away trailing its chain leads, bleating in fear. AuRon sniffed, looked, and listened before approaching the trees where the voice had come from.

“I’ve a ring belonging to Djer with me.”

“Leave it and go to the other side of the field.”

AuRon obeyed, his tail lashing in impatience. He placed the ring on a stump in the field and strode away. Djer was a brave dwarf; it would be like him to be at the forefront of a battle.

The dwarf, a beardless youngster, crept out of the trees, face enclosed by thick layers of wrapped cloth examining first the meadow, then the sky. He snatched up the ring and then ran back into the trees.

Afternoon had turned to twilight before another dwarf returned, a dwarf in chain mail with his beard cut short so it would not become entangled in his armor.

“By the Golden Tree, it is the Gray Dragon,” the dwarf muttered to the wraxapod herder. The dwarf raised his mask. He had the staring look of one who had seen much fighting.

“Dragon, I’ve spent so much time cursing your kind, I’ve forgotten your name. But I’ve seen you before, among the towers and in battle. I was there when you stopped the charge of the Ironriders with your fire.”

“AuRon is the name, and thank you for coming.”

“Altran is mine, once on the staff of Djer, may his vest sprout gold.”

>Deep pain drove a spike through AuRon, further angering him. He wanted to roar and stomp, lose the hurt awakened in him in an orgy of death. But he fought down the emotions and hugged his body to the mountainside. The cool rock under his chin soothed him.

“I must think,” AuRon said. “Leave me to listen to the wind for a while.”

The hominids filed inside, Hieba under Naf’s arm. AuRon felt a seep of jealousy, but the girl belonged with other humans. Naf turned her for the door, but at the last second she broke away from his grip and ran to AuRon. She flung her arms about his neck.

“Father,” she said. “Whatever you do, wherever you go, my heart is there, too. I’ll always remember you.”

“Berrysweet, I’m not going anywhere just yet. I’ve still to reconcile mind and heart.”

AuRon looked north for a long stretch of silent hours. Naf came out and offered him food, but he had eaten well the previous day and was not hungry as yet. He watched the shadows change as the sun crossed over to the west, watching them lengthen and then dissolve into the night. The stars came out. AuRon wandered in memory, and circled back again and again to something Mother had said. Once you’ve fixed on your star, you’ll know where you are for the rest of your life.

He looked at the star, the star the Bowing Dragon pointed to. His star.

It led north.

AuRon hovered outside the castle, sailing on the mountain winds, rather proud of himself, for a heavier dragon could not manage the trick without much beating of the wings.

“Naf! Naf!” he called through the shuttered windows.

He heard curtains being pulled aside and Naf opened the wind-shutters. A hint of stove-light framed his powerful shoulders and Hieba stood behind, clinging to him.

“Have you settled your mind?” Naf asked, almost shouting.

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