Page 7 of Dragon Fire

They passed the rest of the flight in easy conversation and a bit of instruction as Genlitha showed the youngster how to best conserve his energy and make every wingbeat count. Gowan learned a great deal just listening to her and seeing how both dragon and gryphon implemented her strategies. Gowan hadn’t known there were so many nuances to flying, but he was gaining new respect for what the dragons did every day without fanfare or comment.

By the time they reached the Lair, night had fallen and the fires were lit on the landing ledge to guide them in. Flurrthith was afraid of the fire at first, and Gowan understood why he might be with wings made of oily feathers and flamable fluff. Genlitha had to coax the youngster to land, showing him the way and commanding the knights on the ledge douse all but one of the fires before Flurrthith would agree to come in.

Flurrthith wasn’t quite as graceful as Genlitha when he landed, but he managed a decent presentation, skidding to a stop on all fours. Gowan leapt off Genlitha’s back and immediately went to Flurrthith’s side. The small gryphon had been flying hurt, and Gowan wanted his wings seen to first, before they did anything else.

Seth was already there, waiting to be introduced to the gryphon before approaching. Everyone on the ledge was holding back, having been briefed about the gryphon. Gowan signaled Seth to stand beside him.

“Flurrthith, this is my friend, Seth, who has knowledge of healing. I would like you to allow him to check the dressings I put on your wings. He is much more skilled than I, and I want to make sure you are as well cared for as possible. Will you allow it?” Gowan asked formally.

Flurrthith perched on his front paws, facing them. He looked from Gowan to Seth and bowed his head. Seth did the same, showing respect while not lowering his eyes.

“It iss an honor to meet you, Ssir Sseth,” the gryphon said aloud.

“The honor is mine, Sir Flurrthith, but I am not a knight. I was raised here in the Lair. My fathers are knights. I am the healer’s apprentice. She would have come herself to tend you, but she is too old to climb to the ledge. She will see you when you descend but wanted me to make sure you had skilled attention at the earliest opportunity.”

“Thank you, Sseth,” Flurrthith said. “You do your people proud by treating a vissitor with ssuch courtessey.”

Seth spent a few minutes looking over Gowan’s handiwork with Gowan providing assistance and commentary. Gowan had kept each and every one of the arrows he’d taken out of Flurrthith’s feathers and skin, and Seth examined each one, checking for signs of poison or barbs that might indicate further problems. Luckily, there were none, and only one of the arrows had a really sharp blade point. That was the one that had done the most damage, but it had cut through the flesh and struck bone, stopping there.

“You have quite a few broken feather shafts,” Seth observed, talking directly to Flurrthith. “Is there something I can do for those? I have heard about the way hunting hawks sometimes have shed feathers blended back in with needle and thread until the new shafts have time to grow.”

“We do ssomething ssimilar,” Flurrthith agreed, “but I have no ssupliess with me for ssuch thingss. They’ll jusst have to grow back on their own. I can sstill fly, sso it will be all right for now. Thank you.”

Seth stood back, finished with the examination. “If you’re ready, you can come with us to the great hall where the leaders of our Lair are gathered to meet you and receive your message.”

What followed went about as Gowan had expected. The young gryphon delivered a hastily scribbled message on a scroll he’d had secreted in a small satchel nestled around his neck and hidden among his chest feathers. The dragon council was eager to help the gryphons, but the human leaders were hesitant, and the key dragons backed up their human partners.

Gowan thought he understood the loyalty between dragon and knight, but this was bordering on the ridiculous as far as he was concerned. The dragons should be smart enough to see that the old men who were leading them had lost their taste for battle and risk. They seemed to want to hide their heads in the sand and just ignore all the problems that had cropped up on their doorstep. But that was naïve in the extreme, not to mention dangerous.

Something had to be done. And if the old timers weren’t up to it, Gowan would by golly do the job himself.

CHAPTER THREE

Down in Dragonscove, talk was rife about the gryphon a few had seen flying over the town in company with the so-called air dragon. That’s what they called Genlitha, due to her sky blue coloration. She blended into the sky so well on clear days that she almost couldn’t be seen. The O’Dare’s surly housekeeper, Rosie, bless her icy heart, had been keeping Livia apprised of the doings in town while she spent her days going from house to work and back again.

Livia was only allowed to fish with Hrardorr twice per week and was otherwise grounded now that her father was home. She was going a little crazy unable to see Seth or Gowan. The way they’d left things made her uncertain about her welcome should she try to contact them mind-to-mind, the way she spoke to Hrardorr.

Since Hrardorr spent as little time in the Lair as possible, he wasn’t a very good source of information on the doings there, but at least she could talk to him whenever she wanted. Even if she could only meet up with him twice per week on the water. He’d taken to spending more time in the boathouse than her father realized.

The little structure had become Hrardorr’s hideaway, where he could go and none of the other dragons could easily follow. Nobody except Livia knew he was there, except perhaps Genlitha, but she’d been sent on far patrols since the dust up with her elders. Hrardorr was as melancholy as Livia was about everything, and they talked silently about their misery from time to time, but it didn’t really help to alleviate it.

The gryphon, though… That was something interesting and new.

It had been a full week since Livia’s father had come home. Progress was being made on turning the diamond blades into cut stones, and buyers were lining up for them. Now that the captain was back in residence, he was handling a lot of the assignments for his fleet of ships and smaller vessels.

Livia felt superfluous in the office. The men her father had entrusted his ships to came in singly and in groups to share meals and closed-door meetings with her father to which she was never invited. It felt like everything she had done to keep the business running was for naught now that her father was home. It was like she’d only been a placeholder, keeping things moving, waiting for therealleader to return. At least, that’s how the sea captains made her feel when they sauntered in to share glasses of port and loud guffaws with her father.

The fishing captains were a bit different. They were local men who had known her from childhood. They also knew she had befriended the blind dragon who had been so beneficial to their trade recently. With Hrardorr hunting most of the predators in the area, fish were more plentiful than ever, and nobody was going hungry in Dragonscove this year. The fishermen were also making a nice living, able to sell their fish far and wide with such big catches.

They made her feel marginally better when they came in for meetings with her father. They each paused by her office to say hello and share pleasantries with her, as well—as if she still mattered, even though the captain was back in residence. Frankly, that was the only thing that kept her going in to work each day.

Her father had sent word out to all his captains to return to Dragonscove as soon as possible, and each day, it seemed, another ship reported in. Most of these captains and crews weren’t based out of Dragonscove. They were stationed far and wide along the coast, dispersed all over the trade routes their fleet traveled.

Many of the ship captains snubbed her in favor of her father, but Livia listened to their reports as best she could, piecing together the grim picture of where the enemy fleet had come from and where they’d gone. When the gryphon flew over the town on its way to the Lair with Genlitha and Gowan, Livia feared she already knew what the creature would tell them.

She went home at her regular time that night, giving nothing away of her concern. She ate dinner, as usual, with her father, speaking only of trivial matters, lest she betray her intentions. She excused herself early, claiming she was tired and wanted to go to sleep early. And then, she put her plan into action.

She wasn’t sure exactly what she could do, but she wasn’t going to sit meekly at home without at least trying to do something. She just had to move carefully and avoid letting her father know what she was doing at all costs.

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