Flight to Dragon Isle (27 page)

‘I’m more than satisfied with his progress, and yet there is no sign of him shedding his skin.’ Tugging his long, luxuriant beard, Professor Rumspell, Dragon Isle’s senior surgeon, hesitated, watching Quenelda assist a dragonsmith with the careful grafting of new skin onto Stormcracker’s tail. ‘I’m guessing here, Dragonmaster, but I don’t think his physical injuries are the problem any more, terrible though they are. Of course, he will never be operationally fit enough to fly with the SDS; his injuries are too severe to cope with battle manoeuvres. But he should be able to shed his skin, to fly once again – and yet he cannot.’

The surgeon sighed. ‘I think it is guilt and grief combined. His spirit is broken. Without Quenelda he would already have died. He cares enough to respond to her, but it is not sufficient. He’s slowly fading. A dragon raised by a Dragon Lord has an unbreakable bond – an echo of the Dragon Whisperers’ bond. Without the Earl and the SDS, he’s lost. It would be better had they both died rather than have him suffer this living death.’

Tangnost had a sudden thought. Thanking the surgeon, he strode over to Quenelda and Root, who were miserably watching the battledragon as he half-heartedly ate a small cauldron of brimstone offered by Quester. The youth had spent countless days waxing the huge dragon’s pebbled hide and oiling his talons under Tangnost’s guidance.

‘We’re approaching this the wrong way,’ the dwarf announced.

‘What do you mean?’ Quenelda was instantly alert to the change in Tangnost’s bearing.

‘We’re trying to get Stormcracker to shed his skin. Professor Rumspell says that physically he’s mending, gaining in strength every day; that there’s nothing stopping him trying to fly. But he’ll never be a battle-dragon again, never fight with the SDS; his whole purpose in life is gone. It’s a sickness of the spirit that is holding him back. He—’

‘He’s pining,’ Quenelda finished for him. ‘He’s
pining
!’ Hands on head, she shouted, suddenly alive, suddenly laughing, hugging Tangnost. ‘Of course!’
How could I have missed something so obvious?

‘What?’ Root looked baffled.

Tangnost nodded, knowing that Quenelda had understood. ‘He’s consumed by guilt,’ he explained to Root. ‘He sees no point in living because he believes he abandoned the Earl.’

‘Tell him what we’re planning, Quenelda.’ He watched the battledragon. ‘Tell him that if he gets fit enough, we’re going to search for your father. Maybe that will make a difference, if he has something left to fight for.’

‘Yes!’ With a hopeful smile and a bounce in her step, Quenelda went over, Root following behind. Stormcracker was yearning for her father – just like her! Why hadn’t she realized that?

We are going to find Thunder Rolling over the Mountains?
The battledragon’s golden eyes lit up with sudden hope, and Quenelda knew with a rush of adrenaline that he was going to be alright.

Yes. One-Eye will help us
…

Stormcracker shuddered, and let out a long soft breath, his muzzle lipping at Quenelda’s shoulder. The glint in his eye grew stronger. He raised his massive head towards the sky and bellowed, an earth-shaking challenge that rattled the combs of Dragon Isle. A challenge had been thrown down to those who had betrayed the SDS.

But you must be strong. The path is treacherous. The No Wings who betrayed us will try and stop us, will try and kill us before we find him
.

The dragon creatures from the Abyss … they will fight us?

Quenelda nodded.
You must be strong to defend us, to hide us. We have to find the path you took, find Thunder Rolling over the Mountains and then bring him home safely to roost here on Dragon Isle. We are going on a quest
…

I will be strong, Dancing with Dragons
… the battle-dragon promised, smoke pouring from his nostrils.
I will build up my strength so that we can face the dark together
.

Stormcracker’s eyes locked with Quenelda’s, before he turned back to his food – only to find it gone. Curled up in the empty cauldron, Two Gulps Too Many burped happily in his sleep.

‘Look.’ Quenelda grinned as the first frosts turned the gantries and landing pads of Dragon Isle white.

Root followed her gaze. Stormcracker was crunching his way through a Highland cow with obvious relish. The gnome couldn’t see anything unusual, and now it barely made him queasy to watch. For the last two weeks, the dragon had barely raised his muzzle from the feeding troughs. Despite that, he was looking in even worse condition: whole sections of his skin had sloughed off and were hanging in tatters, but he didn’t want to upset her by mentioning that.

He shrugged casually. ‘I can’t see anything …’

‘Wait – wait and watch,’ Quenelda said mysteriously.

Head raised, Stormcracker gulped down the last chunk of still-warm meat with a satisfied crunch. Then he leaned against a roost pole so hard that bits of his skin peeled away. Walking over, with Root at her heels, Quenelda reached down and picked up a piece of skin that had fallen off and gave it to her esquire, who looked at it blankly then returned it to Quenelda.

‘He’s shedding his skin, silly!’ She was grinning from ear to ear. ‘He’s shedding his skin! He’s going to be all right. He’s going to be able to fly again!’ She clasped Root in a hug. ‘We’re going to search for Papa!’

‘Can we do it?’ Quenelda was exhausted after a long week of exercises with Stormcracker, strengthening the battledragon’s wing tendons and muscles. She watched Tangnost, followed by Quester, complete his careful inspection, Two Gulps Too Many waddling solemnly behind. On his unconventional diet, the little dragon was growing so fast that he kept tripping up the Dragonmaster with his huge feet; Tangnost was resisting a growing urge to kick the fledgling.

Quenelda knew that getting the big dragon fit to fly to the frozen north was the least of the challenges facing them if they were to find her father. Doubts were beginning to assail her.

‘We’ve only been as far as the Brimstones. I don’t know how long this journey will take, or where it will lead us. I don’t know’ – Quenelda bit her lip: she didn’t have the right to ask Root to give up everything for her – for her quest; he’d already given so much – ‘whether we’ll …’

‘Whether we’ll ever come back?’ Root finished for her as he slid down to sit at her side, resting his head against one of Stormcracker’s huge talons. ‘I know that it will be very dangerous; that we’ll be hunted by hobgoblins and the Lord Protector.’ He smiled crookedly. Once he would have been petrified. He
was
petrified! ‘But think what the bards will have to sing about us in the future!’

Root grinned as Stormcracker’s head swung round to consider them both through grave, golden eyes. As he gave the huge battledragon a pat on the nose, Quenelda realized how much he had changed; how much they had all changed.

‘Think about it!’ Root said. ‘A quest to find a lost Dragon Lord; led by a legendary Bonecracker – the Earl’s shield – a Dragon Whisperer, and an apprentice made esquire, all flying on an injured battledragon brought back from the dead! How can we possibly fail?’

Waddling over to nestle against Stormcracker, Two Gulps Too Many hiccupped happily. Root ducked. Quenelda laughed as the noxious yellow flame licked about her. ‘Don’t worry – we won’t leave you behind!’

Lucinda Hare
was born in Scotland and spent her childhood years roaming the local woods with her dogs, imagining worlds where wolves, knights and dragons battled in deep forests. She and her husband share their Edinburgh home with an ever-changing number of rescue animals, ranging from cats, dogs, rabbits and guinea pigs to escaped battery hens on the run. She specializes in cruelty cases and animals with behavioural problems, and friends often comment that she can weave magic and talk to the animals – a real life ‘whisperer’! Her debut novel,
The Dragon Whisperer
, was shortlisted for the 2010 Royal Mail Scottish Book Awards.