Wings of Renewal: A Solarpunk Dragon Anthology (12 page)

She hopped into the boat and immediately began unmooring it. Heart hammering, her hands struggled to get the knots untied in the dark. The guards would begin their rounds again any moment.
 

“Where are you going?”

“Shit,” Chataya muttered and turned around. She glared at Luan, and the stupid smug expression on his face. “Judging by the fact that you're standing here, I'm sure you already know. And keep your voice down.”
 

They both glanced over at the guards, who thankfully still hadn't noticed them.
 

“I'm coming with you,” Luan whispered, and threw his packs into the boat.
 

“Why?”

“Because I want to. And I'll wake the entire village if you don't let me.”

Chataya sighed. “Fine. Help me with the ties.”

When they were finished, Luan pushed off and jumped, gracefully landing in the bow. Chataya started the engine and guided the boat out of its spot. Luckily, the boats were silent, running on solar energy. They could easily sneak away without any noise to alert the guards.
 

They waited until they had gone around a bend in the river before turning on the solar lamps.
 

“So, what's the plan?” Luan asked.

“Get to the Heart.”

“That's it? I assumed you had something better than that.”

“That's just the beginning of my plan. Look.” She fished through her pack to bring out the bundle of maps. She'd written notes, and had hand-drawn a couple of the most likely paths she should take based on the books. “I mapped out a few different routes.” She spread them out before Luan. “Based on the information we have on the Heart and the glow dragons. I admit, it isn't much, but it's enough for a start. Our best chance for finding them would be there.”

Luan rifled through the pages for a while, silent in his study. Chataya's body skittered with nerves. She kept checking over her shoulder for a pursuing boat. She wondered if the guards had noticed her father's boat missing, and mentally calculated how long it would take to raise the alarm. She made the boat go a little faster.

“Why the Silent River?” Luan asked finally.

Chataya turned back around to look at him. “Because it's less traveled.” It was well known that the beasts of the jungle stayed away from the places humans frequented. They were less likely to be hunted and killed that way.
 

“It's less traveled for a reason.”

“If you were a dragon, where would you be?”
 

They turned up a tributary a few miles from the village. The sun was still a few hours from rising. They passed sleeping villages, the tree line dotted with the occasional lights of those afraid of the night. The water here was deeper than the main river, but it wasn't as wide. Still, there was enough room for four or five boats to travel abreast.
 

The first day was mostly uneventful. They passed fishermen from neighboring villages, and merchants making their way downriver to the bigger ports. Some waved, most ignored them, and they were content to ignore them back.
 

That night they camped in a tree not far from the river. Chataya was awoken by something moving through the undergrowth. It rustled leaves, and huffed, as if it had picked up the scent trail of its next meal. She lay perfectly still, not daring to look down, her mind racing with thoughts of giant jaguars that could swallow her whole and of boars as big as houses. Instead, she focused on calming her heart. But it only stilled once the creature, whatever it was, moved on.
 

* * *

On the afternoon of the fourth day, they reached the deep jungle, where man rarely ventured. They were surrounded by the peaceful chaos of the wild. A family of howler monkeys had congregated by the river, causing a ruckus, and distressing the nearby birds.

Something slid through the water to their left. Chataya's pulse quickened. She scanned the river, but everything seemed calm.
 

“Could be a caiman,” Luan said.
 

“I hope not.”
 

Caimans could get rather large, and were notorious for flipping boats. She wondered if it had been a mistake to make this journey. No. She'd known the dangers when she left, and if she found her dragons, it would all be worth it.
 

She caught movement under the boat and peered over the edge to see what it was. Something sleek, silvery, and huge slid by. Chataya gulped and took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart. It was just a fish. A big fish, yes, but just a fish.
 

Suddenly, the fish shot up out of the water ahead of her, spreading its massive fins so they glimmered blue and green in the sunlight.
 

No, not a fish.
A water dragon
.
 

“They do exist,” she whispered.
 

Luan reached for his bow, and drew an arrow out of the quiver. She slapped his hand.
 

“If it wanted to eat us, it would have,” Chataya whispered through the corner of her mouth.

He looked at her, lips pursed, but said nothing.
 

Chataya went back to watching the dragon. If water dragons exist, then there was a very strong possibility glow dragons did too. Her heart soared at the thought as she watched the dragon swim up the river. It was about twenty feet in length, with a long, elegant neck.
 

They floated together for some time. The dragon seemed content to leave them be. Maybe they don't eat humans, as the tales said.
 

The dragon dived suddenly, disappearing under the tranquil waters, sending a ripple of waves across the river and rocking the boat.

“Where did it go?” Luan asked, looking around. He reached for the bow again, and Chataya glared at him.

She still didn't think it posed a threat to them, even as a small part of her worried that, in fact, it did. She looked down at her hand, clenching her knife, and wondered when she had picked it up. She took a deep breath in an effort to expel some of her fear.
 

The dragon exploded through the water a ways off, a large clump of river weeds trailing from its mouth. It continued its lazy journey, placidly chewing the weeds.
 

“It's an herbivore,” Chataya said with a sigh of relief. They laughed at themselves as they dropped their weapons.

They parted ways with the dragon an hour later when it crawled up onto the shore and settled down in the grasses to sun itself.

* * *

 
“We've been traveling for ten days now,” Luan said. He studied the maps, while the boat cruised along on auto-pilot. Chataya sat glued to the prow, scanning the jungle with her binoculars for anything unusual. They hadn't seen another dragon since, and they were beginning to get anxious.
 

They'd already bickered once that morning, and twice the day before.

All the paths had proven fruitless, either leading to dead-ends or empty ponds. They ventured over land a few times, checking caves and thick groves of ancient trees, but there was no sign of another dragon; water, glow, or otherwise. Luan was convinced the dragons would be near water, based on how much Sol loved to swim in the river. Chataya remembered eating lunch on the bank of the river with Luan and a couple of their friends when they were younger. They would nibble on their lunches and watch Sol splash around. She reluctantly agreed.

“Do you think we'll know when we've entered the Heart?” Chataya asked. She stared at all the x's on the maps, marking the places they tried and failed, and her heart sank a little. She was losing hope with each passing day. Maybe Luan was right, maybe Sol was the only dragon. Maybe she'd just have to content herself with catching a butterfly dragon. Or maybe, if she really felt desperate for a dragon, she'd have to marry Luan. He'd have to let her pet it then. But she wasn't counting on it.

“Possibly,” Luan replied without looking up. “I mean, it's not like there'll be a sign announcing that we've now entered it or anything, but I do think there'll be a subtle difference.”

“Like the sky suddenly getting dark and ominous.” Like her mood.

“Like that,” Luan agreed.
 

He smiled, and Chataya's stomach gave a little flip.
Stop that
, she thought. She still wanted to be mad at him, although with each passing day she was finding it harder. Underneath all that arrogance, he really wasn't a bad friend.

“Our turn should be coming up.” He got up and went to the steering wheel. A few meters up river, they came to a small tributary that broke off the Silent River. The entrance was overgrown with vegetation. If they hadn't been looking for it, they might've missed it.
 

“Will we be able to make it through there?” Chataya asked, worry creeping into her voice.
 

“There's only one way to find out.” He turned off the auto-pilot, slowed the boat down, and began guiding it towards the narrow opening. They had to duck to avoid being hit by the overhanging branches. Leaves scraped against the side of Chataya's face.

The waterway was more like a deep stream. It was so narrow, Chataya could reach her hands out and touch the vegetation on either side. It was just wide enough for the boat to pass.

“If it gets any smaller, we'll have to walk,” Luan said.
 

Chataya nodded in agreement. She wouldn't mind. After sitting for so long, her legs were just aching to move.
 

The stream didn't get narrower, but it certainly didn't get wider either. They spent half the day on that tiny waterway, pouring over the maps and books while they nibbled on their lunch. Towards dusk they lit the solar lamps, and Chataya's head filled with the mythological beasts of the jungle. They passed under a giant spider web, and she ducked down into boat, imagining monstrous spiders lurking in the trees just out of sight.
 

But when they got closer, they saw that the spider was merely the size of her fist. Still large by any accounting, but far from big enough to eat her.
 

A ways up, they rounded a bend, and Chataya's breath caught in her throat. The river opened up into a large pond hemmed in on all sides by trees that blocked out the fading sun. It gave the illusion they were sailing into a cave. The largest tree she'd ever seen dominated a small island, with branches that stretched into the sky far out of sight.
 

Above them flew hundreds of glow dragons shimmering in the gloom. They flitted through the branches and skimmed lazily over the pond, their wings cutting through the water like knives. Luan slowed the boat, afraid of disturbing the creatures.
 

One landed on the gunwale, oblivious to Chataya and Luan. It closed its eyes and seemed to nap. Its feathers were tinged with turquoise, which set it apart from Sol, who was more golden. Chataya inched towards it, hoping she'd be able to at least touch it before scaring it away.
 

They made it halfway across the pond before the dragons started to screech and scatter, whipping about like an agitated bee hive. The dragon on the boat woke and took off, buffeting them with strong beats of its feathery wings.

“No!” She said instinctively. “Don't go!”
 

One dived towards them, only to crash through the water. It popped up on the other side, spraying them with a fine mist. Chataya lunged towards it, trying to catch it, but it was too swift. She went after another, but it maneuvered away from her too.
 

“Look,” Luan said, pointing.
 

Chataya stopped and followed his gaze. The island tree was twisting, shifting upwards. Flowers bloomed from the branches, red and purple in shades she'd never seen before. Then it opened its eyes, two great, silver orbs in the largest branch. It stretched its neck, and shook off its lethargy in a great rustle of leaves, then let out a deafening roar, sending the smaller dragons into a frenzy. One by one, they disappeared into the trees to watch them from the safety of their nests. The glowing dimmed, so the dragons looked like nothing more than distant stars.
 

“Merciful gods,” Luan said.
 

“What do we do?” Chataya asked, but Luan didn't answer. He stared at the great dragon, mouth agape.
 

Will that one eat us?
It was certainly large enough. She remembered the tales from her books of the Great One, and knew they stood before something ancient. It watched them curiously. It had probably never seen a human before.

It craned its neck forward, reaching towards Chataya. She sat absolutely still, praying to all the forest gods that it would let them live, and if it must eat someone, let it be Luan. It ignored her though, and nudged the lamp behind her. The lamp swayed, creaking loudly in the silence. It then turned its attention to Luan, and despite her earlier prayer, she feared for him. The dragon sniffed him, then made a noise that sounded suspiciously like
Sol
.
 

“I think it smells Sol on you,” Chataya whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

The dragon pulled back to sit on its haunches and regarded them with those silver eyes. Chataya and Luan sat there, not knowing if they should leave, if
the dragons would even let them leave.
 

After a while, the glow dragons emerged from the trees, in ones and twos at first, until they were all streaming out of their nests to circle the boat. One dragon broke away from the rest and flew down to them, landing near Chataya. It trumpeted and flapped its wings.
 

She reached out her hand to let it sniff her, and when it gave its approval, she pet it. The feathers on its head were soft and warm. It nipped playfully at her hand, and she giggled.
 

“I think that one has claimed you,” Luan said.

“Really?” She was too stunned to think. Could it really have been that easy?

They remained overnight, and slept under the safe cover of the Great One's branches, surrounded by dozens of warm, purring bodies. The ground was soft, and the air filled with the sweet fragrance of the massive flowers. A part of Chataya wished they could stay there forever, living among the glow dragons. But they had families waiting for them.