Brave Story (86 page)

“Dragons are a large sort, I’m sure, but he should have plenty of room here. Footing’s good too.”

Wataru took a deep breath and looked up. Not a single cloud marred the blue sky above him. A gentle wind blew through the clearing.

“What are you waiting for? Give it a blow, Wataru.”

Meena and Kee Keema held their breath. The town master and a curious group of villagers stood nearby. For most of them, it would be their first time seeing a dragon. Even though they were old, their faces shone like kids at a birthday party.

“Right.”

Wataru found himself getting nervous. Gripping the flute firmly between his fingers so that he wouldn’t drop it, he brought it to his lips. The crimson flute was slightly warm to his touch as he blew softly into the mouthpiece.

Sound came flowing out of the flute in a rich flood. It was as though a translucent veil had been wrapped around them, making everything seem at once sharper and yet more unreal. The forest leaves, dull just a moment before, became a radiant green, and the tiny white flowers in the grass beneath their feet sparkled.

The wyrmflute wasn’t changing its tone with Wataru’s breath. Rather, it felt like it was touching his very soul. It sang its own song and called out to the farthest reaches of the sky. The sound rode the wind, rising above the clouds, soaking in the light of the sun, and whispering sweetly to everything upon the ground as it rose, higher and higher.

“It’s beautiful,” Meena whispered, looking up at the sky. It was almost as if she could see the waves of sound rolling through the heavens. Wataru saw it too. It was like a pure wind of terrific energy, cutting across the clear sky of Vision, circling around the clearing in which they stood.

The illusion remained briefly, even after Wataru took his lips from the flute. The instrument glimmered once—a bright crimson light between Wataru’s fingers—before falling into a satisfied silence.

No one there was really sure how long they waited. They had all lost sense of the passing of time. As one, they looked up at the blue sky, excitement filling their hearts. At length, a single small crimson speck appeared far away in the blue sky. It was as though another wyrmflute had winked into existence high above their heads. But this crimson star shining in the middle of the day was clearly moving. It was coming closer, answering the flute’s call, flying straight across the cloudless blue.

As they watched, the crimson speck grew larger until they could see the wings. Each powerful beat sent air swirling behind it, giving it a rainbow trail as it flew, closer and closer now.

Wataru, unthinking, lifted a hand. Everyone began waving. The crimson wings were distinct against the sky now. There was no mistake—it was a dragon. The dragon spread its wings, circling once over the crowd, then stopping in midair. The villagers scattered, opening a space in the center of the clearing. With an artful twist of his wings, Jozo slowly descended, his clawed legs extended. The underbrush in the forest swayed in the wind with every beat of his wings. Wataru’s hair, Meena’s ears, and the loose-fitting clothes of the villagers were whipped about. Everyone smiled and laughed and waved their hands like crazy.

Jozo’s feet touched the ground. The giant firewyrm landed carefully, so as not to knock anyone over with his massive wings. His large, round eyes scanned the crowd searching for Wataru.

“Jozo!” Wataru ran out, his arms spread wide. The firewyrm folded his wings and greeted Wataru with a sound like a soft bark.

“Ah! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Jozo said. He had grown considerably since they had met in the Swamp of Grief. His wings were strong, his fangs gleamed, and every inch of his body was covered in hard, crimson scales. Still, his cheery voice was no different. “It sure took you a while to call me. I was starting to get worried.”

“Sorry. A lot has happened since then. I’m surprised you remember me.”

“How could I forget?” Jozo said, blinking. “You did save my life.”

Wataru looked at Jozo’s tail and saw that it was still severed where he had cut it with his sword to save the dragon from the ravenous kalon in the swamp.

“Your tail didn’t grow back?”

Jozo swung the stump of his tail against the grass and laughed. This sent a smattering of Taclou folk scampering in every direction.

“I may be a dragon, but some things are beyond me. Ach, the wyrmking was right furious. Said that’s what comes of my inordinate fondness for aerial acrobatics. Still, it’s good to have a few battle scars. Makes you look more experienced, if you know what I mean.”

Jozo craned his neck to look at the crowd. “Friends of yours, Wataru?”

“Yes, they are.”

“Why are their eyes and mouths so big?”

Wataru laughed out loud. “They’re startled to see you. I think it’s their first time seeing a dragon.”

“Is that so? Well, good day, everyone.”

Shouts of surprise went up from the villagers at the dragon’s friendly greeting. Some of the older among them fell straightaway onto the ground. Even the town master was wiping beads of sweat from his forehead. “This is, this is…it’s real. It’s a real firewyrm!”

“In the flesh,” Jozo said proudly.

Meena took a tentative step forward. “Wa-Wataru…”

“Jozo, these are my traveling companions, Meena and Kee Keema.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Kitkin. And big Mister Waterkin!”

“N-not so big compared to you,” Kee Keema said.

“True enough, true enough. But you might be three times my age. Never can tell with waterkin.”

Never can tell with dragons,
Wataru was thinking. Jozo was a perfect example: his body was huge, but he was still clearly a child of his species.

“So, Wataru, where is it you want to go? I can fly a whole lot faster and higher than the first time we met. I’ll take you wherever it is you need to be.”

Wataru explained the situation. Jozo listened, casually taking it all in. “Dela Rubesi, you say? Indeed, the air around the Undoor Highland has been a trifle odd of late. Probably would be dangerous for the karulakin to fly.”

“You knew about that?”

“Of course I did. Vision’s skies are my home. You ready to leave?”

“You bet!”

Wataru and his friends had already prepared for their departure. Jozo stuck out his neck, and Kee Keema climbed on first. He then pulled up Meena and Wataru. The entire village had come out to see them off.

“Thank you for all your help, we are in your debt,” Wataru said to the town master.

“Not at all, not at all. Glad to do it.”

“Please look after Mr. Fanlon for us too.”

“You leave that to us. When he’s well again, we’ll take him on a pass we know through the mountains. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure he reaches Gasara safely.”

Wataru had given a letter to Toni that detailed the recent events in Lyris. He asked him to take it directly to Kutz in Gasara.

“Just the three of you? Okay, sit tight, and hold onto something!” Jozo said, twisting his neck to make sure everyone was in place. “Well then, we’re off! Things’ll be a bit bumpy at first, so be warned. Off we go!”

Jozo gave a powerful beat of his wings, and Wataru could feel the current sweeping underneath them. The air rushed past Wataru’s cheek, and he felt his spirits rise in anticipation.

“Safe travels to you!” the town master called out to them. Then, light as a feather, Jozo lifted off the ground. Moments later the forest was falling away beneath them. Wataru waved as he heard shouts of farewell and good luck from the villagers far below.

They were in open air. After one last farewell circle above the clearing, they climbed again, heading for Dela Rubesi. Back in the clearing, the villagers of Taclou watched as Jozo once again became a red dot in the sky. Together, they stood there until he disappeared.

The town master smiled. “Makes the last fifty years all worth it, doesn’t it?”

Chapter 38
The Icy Capital

Even for Wataru, who had riden on a karulakin twice, Jozo’s speed was exhilarating.
For Meena and Kee Keema, both newcomers to air travel, it was quite a shock. Meena quickly forgot her fears and spent her time looking at the ground far below. She laughed and squealed every time they took a dip. Kee Keema, on the other hand, spent his time hunched over the dragon’s back. His gray, mottled skin seemed even paler than usual as the blood drained from his face.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’m too good at this flying thing,” the waterkin said through clenched teeth. He was clinging to Jozo for dear life.

“So much for the great wanderer of the south,” Meena joked. But not even that could get a rise from Kee Keema.

“I’ll go above the clouds,” Jozo called back to them. “The air is a bit thinner, but you won’t be able to see the ground anymore. That should make things easier for our friend the waterkin.”

After a few moments in the mist they broke through the clouds. As the dragon had promised, the sea of white below them did look fluffy and comfortable (provided you could forget how high up you were) and made the ride slightly less thrilling.

Clinging to Jozo’s back, Wataru and Meena asked a million questions. Do dragons always fly this high? Is it true there is an island in the Stinging Mist that hangs over the sea between the north and south?

“That there is,” the dragon told them. “I was born in the Stinging Mist. The island where we wyrmkin live is shaped just like the scale I gave you.”

In the distant past, the wyrmkin had been much more numerous than they were now, and many lived in both the north and the south, he explained. “But, in the end, it was difficult for us to live with your kind.”

“Why’s that, Jozo?”

“We’re just too darn big. And too strong. Oh, and we breathe fire.”

Meena’s eyes went wide. “What happened? Did we, did the other races—the ankha and the beastkin—drive the dragons off?”

“Well, not exactly,” Jozo said hesitantly. “I’ve heard only what my folks and the wyrmking have said, so I don’t know all the particulars myself.”

For some reason, Wataru was surprised to hear that Jozo had parents. Of course it made sense, it just seemed odd to think about it.

“Well, if they did, I think it’s a shame,” Meena said, frowning with her ears pressed back against her head. “We all owe the firewyrm a great debt for helping the Goddess create Vision. To think that we pushed his descendants away…”

“Well, we weren’t exactly pushed,” Jozo hurriedly added. “See, the wyrmking says that Vision is like a living thing. That’s why it changes over time. It grows. He said big things like us have to dwindle, and at some point, disappear entirely. That’s just the way it works.” Despite his words, Jozo didn’t seem concerned in the least.

“Doesn’t that make you sad?” Wataru asked.

“Sad?”

“I mean, that your race is destined to die out?”

“I dunno. It all seems kind of unreal anyway. I sure feel fine. And I’ve got plenty of friends back on the Isle of Dragon.”

Still, he told them, few of the adult dragons ever left their homes these days. Most of them chose to live peacefully on their island. The only ones who ventured over the wide vistas of Vision were the young dragons bursting with curiosity. So it had been exceptional luck for Wataru to run into Jozo that day in the swamp.

“I think the Goddess might have had a hand in it, personally,” Jozo said, squinting as they cut through a cloud bank.

The three had dressed warmly, guessing correctly that their flight through the skies would be rather cold. But even still, when they neared Undoor Highland, the clouds grew steadily thicker, and the temperature dropped drastically.

“Shall I make a fire to warm things up?”

“Fire?! No! No thanks. Not for me,” Kee Keema shouted, waving his hands so furiously he nearly fell off. Wataru and Meena laughed.

“There’s really no need to suffer,” Jozo looked around at the clouds looming before them. “Hmm. There is something odd about these clouds though. We should be catching glimpses of Undoor Highland by this point, but I can’t see a thing.”

As they flew, the clouds that had formed a steady carpet beneath them slowly started to swallow them up. Jozo rose higher, but they were still firmly within the cloud bank.

“Do you feel something? These clouds taste funny.”

“Taste funny?”

Wataru and Meena stuck out their tongues, licking the cloud-puff as it rushed past. This is more difficult than it sounds. It wasn’t exactly solid, like cotton candy.

“It tastes like…tears. Perhaps the Goddess is sad,” Jozo said solemnly.

Still he flew on, his wings beating through the clouds in a steady rhythm. Before long, they saw something glimmer to the right. It was only for an instant.

“We should be right over Undoor Highland by now. I’m going to dive down and see what I can find.”

Jozo began his descent. It was like riding on an invisible jet coaster. Wataru felt his stomach rise in his chest. Next to him Kee Keema moaned.

“There!” Jozo said. “Why, we’re already right over it.”

The clouds streamed by, tossed by the strong currents generated by Jozo’s wings. Suddenly a city appeared around them. Wataru swallowed.