I nodded, reaching for the dragon’s shoulder as I climbed, calling over to where Naroba and Tiana were standing behind me. “Ymmen tells me that was no natural fire. We should prepare the warriors and keep alert!” I heard Naroba’s sound of agreement, as I found that there was a natural hollow of scales between the dragon’s neck and the bone spines of his back. It was surprisingly comfortable, and the rise of the spines at my back and the dragon’s wide shoulders just behind me to my right and left made me feel secure. Didn’t the Riders from Torvald use saddles, harnesses, and reins? I thought for a moment – before knowing that I wouldn’t need them. We Daza rode the little, wild scrubland ponies without saddles, and it felt natural to lean slightly forward to place my hands on the scales of his neck.
“Hold on, Little Sister – we fly!” Ymmen whisper-hissed into my mind, as I felt his powerful muscles bunch and spring—
And suddenly, we were leaping into the air and the wind was in my face. I could see the Shifting Sands around me like a golden blanket, and I set my eyes on the distant dark skies.
Chapter 2
A Queen’s Wrath
“What can you see?” I asked the dragon underneath me. Ymmen’s senses were far sharper than any human’s, and certainly far stronger than my own. The plume of black smoke was wide and high – before it started to fray and scatter as it met the high currents of air through which we flew. From this height I could see that the smoke was to the south of us and was at the edge of where the scrubland Plains started turning into the golden dunes of the Shifting Sands. I could see the small, dark shapes of trees and boulders like children’s toys far ahead of us.
“Huts. It was a village,” Ymmen confirmed for me, as he flared his nostrils and allowed his tongue to lick at the wind.
A Daza village, I knew, trying to remember the names of the townships and the tribes that lived this far East. There were no other people out here apart from us. Without even having to say anything, Ymmen surged forward on powerful wing beats, flinging us towards the desolation with urgency.
The land shot up towards us as Ymmen flew, now starting to circle what was clearly the remains of a tribal village. It had been set out in the traditional Daza way – a scattered ring of huts around a much larger, communal hut where these people would have gathered to eat and to mend and to tell stories through the evening.
Now, however – the central hut which was always the anchor to any Daza community was completely broken open and smoldering. I could see the blackened spars and struts clearly through the open hole of the collapsed roof, and even as I watched there was a crash and a plume of sparks as more of the structure fell in on itself.
Most of the huts all around were similarly broken and flaming, but – between the rising smoke I saw movement.
“There!” I called out in relief to see living people, although I knew that Ymmen had probably seen them long before I did. There was more movement, as I saw Daza tribespeople scattering between the huts, some carrying bags and satchels, or precious belongings seized from the hungry flames.
Pheet! Pheet-pheet! Small, angry and dark shapes shot up towards us from the distant, unburning stands of trees and grassed hills outside the settlement. They were arrows. My people were shooting at us!
They must think we’re going to attack them! I realized as I hunkered close to Ymmen’s neck. And if that was true—then I realized with dread what must have happened. These villagers had been attacked by dragons – and I bet I knew which sort of dragon, as well.
“Abominations!” Ymmen growled at the merest thought of Inyene’s mechanical dragons. He detested the creations, and I could only share his distaste. Although they might appear to have the same form as a living, fire-breathing dragon – that was where the similarity ended. Inyene’s monstrosities were built out of brass cogs and steel spars, atop which were nailed the many collected dragon scales that I and her other Daza slaves would be forced to collect. Just thinking about her fleet of creations made me sick. They didn’t have the smooth, interlocking and flowing scales or lines of a natural dragon – but all the scales would be of a different size and color, making them look like a mockery of what a real dragon was.
Pheet! Another arrow shot past Ymmen’s snout, and the dragon snapped his wings with a great, thunderous clash, and the resulting gale of air threw the Daza arrows far and wide. Not that I think the arrows would have been able to hurt him, all the same.
“Hoi!” I shouted down to our crouching and terrified attackers. I waved my hand as I did so, leaning forward to let them see my hair, my skin – to let them know that I was Daza, not a Three Kingdomer.
Our attackers were clearly perplexed, lowering their bows as Ymmen swept around the burning village in slower and lower circles.
“Souda!” I shouted, waving my hand to them, telling then the name of my tribe. “I am Narissea, daughter of Imanu Yanna, of the Souda!” I watched as the archers conferred hurriedly, before one of them raised a hesitant, nervous hand in greeting. That was all it needed for me to feel confident that they would greet us, as Ymmen descended to the ground, beating his wings faster to slow us down, before he landed with a gentle thud on the dirt, a little way from both attackers and ruined village.
“Sun greet you,” said the Daza tribeswoman who had raised her hand. She was on older woman than me, in her third ten-year, perhaps – and had dark hair woven into a fat braid.
“Wind lift you.” I returned the traditional response, earning a steady nod from the woman, even at the same time as she was looking at the Stone Crown on my head.
“I am Opula, Imanu of the Ingwar people. You were in the battle to the East?” the Imanu said gravely, still a little cautious – which was only natural around a real, living fire-breathing dragon, I suppose.
“I was,” I nodded. “You heard of it?”
Opula of the Ingwar gave another nod. “Word is spreading across the Plains, of some large battle involving Westerners and dragons and the Souda.” She looked at the Crown once again, beetling her brows as she tried to fathom what strange new thing I was bringing to her ruined village.
“And then the metal dragons came,” she continued, her tone growing a little sterner. Opula reminded me a little of Naroba in that sense – concentrated, dedicated, and not willing to back an inch. Even though she could see I wasn’t an enemy, I could tell that this tribeswoman didn’t think that made me her friend yet, either.
“Inyene,” I whispered, feeling the anger rise in my heart just at the mere suggestion of the tyrant’s name. “I was a slave in her mines. I broke free,” I explained, earning another, tight nod from the woman below me.
“We’d heard that the Souda were fighting with her,” Opula said, before her mouth quirked downward. “Maybe that is why this Inyene is attacking our villages.”
Villages, I thought in horror. “There have been other attacks?” I asked quickly, turning to look back at the smoking village. It was now almost completely destroyed. It would be months before the people managed to rebuild something as beautiful again.