Chapter 21
- Morgan -
The next morning there are probably a hundred Plood around us, all staring at Vyrathion.
Except for Clyde, who stares at me.
It just about creeps me out. There’s something so alien about them.
There’s already a pile of tribute on the ground. It’s the usual debris of random junk and typical jungle items, a lot of rocks and other bits and pieces.
“They keep coming,” Vyrathion says, barely glancing at me. “It’s as if they are deliberately avoiding finding the gold.”
This morning there’s no pile of fruits carefully peeled or pitted, so I have to breakfast on a couple of fruits from yesterday. “I think they’re trying,” I say. “It may just be that there is no gold. At least not nearby,” I add to not make him feel hopeless.
“Nobody ever heard of a gold-less planet,” the dragon growls. “There is some here. Praxigor’s form is the proof.”
“Praxigor may not have a great deal of gold,” I say carefully. “He says Astrid is his hoard.”
He laughs without joy. “A clear misdirection. He just doesn’t want anyone to look for it. But it’s understandable that a lesser species would fall for such an obvious ploy.”
“You still want to find his hoard?” I ask carefully as I crack open a nut. “What if he’s guarding it?”
“I assume he can’t guard it all the time,” Vyrathion says. Then he focuses his intense gaze on me. “How long is he gone? How long is he in the village? Is he there every day?”
I sigh. This is the old Vyrathion. And probably this is closer to the real him. “I told you. He’s gone all day, but I think he returns in the evenings to be with Astrid.”
“Plainly he guards his hoard in the daytime, then. It’s no mystery. His hoard is likely easier for others to spot in daylight.”
I start to sift through the tributes. The Plood do sometimes bring useful types of trash, and this pile is much bigger than any before it.
I find some rusty iron items I can’t identify, some nuts that the Plood must have seen me eat, the usual yellow egg shells and insect carapaces, some yellow flowers and probably fifty rocks of various sizes.
“You want to go through those?” I ask. “Maybe there’s gold in them that you can somehow get out.”
He comes over and kicks at the heap. “Worthless trash, all of–” He freezes, then quickly bends down and snatches something off the ground. Bringing it up to his eyes, I can hear a rare intake of breath.
“What is that?” I ask. “A nugget?”
“Gold,” he whispers. “Finally!” He holds a small item up in a thin ray of sunlight, making it shine.
A coldness goes through me. I’ve seen Praxigor Change from human to dragon form, and those two are not the same. The dragon is colder, more dangerous, less predictable, much more chilling. If Vyrathion does that now, then who knows what he will do to me.
I stand up and stare. It looks like a thimble, or a small drinking cup made from iron. The hollow is dark, but the outside does indeed shine with two narrow rings of gold, as some kind of decoration. “Is that enough?”
“You spoke about gold leaf,” Vyrathion says as a smile spreads on his face. “Here it is. Too little to matter, but where there’s even this little, there must be more. Where does this come from?” His voice is like a whiplash.
I squat down. “Clyde, that’s gold. You found it. Well done. Where does it come from? Which direction?”
Clyde doesn’t point, he just shifts his gaze to another Plood standing nearby.
That Plood comes forward and points into the jungle with all three fingers.
I get the telepathic image of a patch of jungle, the outside of a palisade, the smell of smoke and this thimble-like thing half buried in the compost that is the jungle earth.
“He found it close to a village,” I interpret for Vyrathion. “Probably one of the men lost it-”
“Yes, yes,” Vyrathion says. “I have already interrogated this pitiful Plood about it. Their thoughts are remarkably open. The place is far from here, but hopeful! Perhaps one of these ludicrous tribes has some sense of what’s truly important.”
I straighten up. “I guess we’ll be going there- shit!”
To my astonishment, Clyde reaches out to me and touches me, making me jerk with the coldness of his fingertip. In his other hand he holds a piece of bark the size of a tablet.
I gingerly accept the piece, not sure what to do with it. “Thanks.”
Then I notice that one of the sides is lighter than the other, like the bark of a birch tree. And someone has carved letters into it, angular and hard to read.
Ice settles in the pit of my stomach. That’s English!
TO THE PLOOD BOSS
WE 5 EARTH GIRLS
CAVGHT BETWEEN TRIBES
NEED HELP VRGENTLY
“It’s a message,” I explain as the world spins around me. “Five girls. They need help. I think they’re surrounded by tribes.”
Vyrathion chuckles. “I’m sure the tribes will enjoy that. Now, we can be at this village in two days, walking at your speed.”
“‘The Plood boss’,” I ponder out loud. “The Plood must have sent some kind of telepathic image to whoever wrote this. And they see us as their bosses.”
“What?” Vyrathion snaps. “Stop speaking nonsense and finish your eating. We have a long way to go, and we’ll be walking fast.”
I hold up the message. “These girls need help. I have to go to them. They need you, too.”
“Where are they?” he asks. “If they’re on the way, we might look in on them.”
Another Plood comes forwards and points in a very different direction than Vyrathion’s gold tribe.
“The tribe won’t get rid of their gold just like that,” I state. “But the girls need our help now. We can help them first, then go straight to the village. If they ever had gold, they still have it now.”
“Gold first,” Vyrathion snaps. “Nothing else matters. Have I taught you nothing?”
“I will come with you,” I promise. “But we have to go to the girls first. If they’re caught between tribes, they will need both of us. Only you have the strength to fight off tribesmen!”
“I need gold now,” the dragon says. “And I may need you if I am to get hold of it from that tribe. There may be some trickery needed. Once I get the gold I need, I will be infinitely stronger and I can completely eradicate any tribe that displeases me. I now deem that you have kept me back for long enough. Come.” He strides into the jungle, and the crowd of Plood splits in front of him to let him pass.
But I stay. “Please, Vyrathion!”
He turns. “What, you need more time? Eat while you walk. I will slow down.”
“I can’t go that way,” I tell him with a voice that’s about to crack. “I have to help these girls.”
“This was settled. You are to come with me, help me get the gold from the tribe, and then perhaps I can help these silly girls of yours.”
“Do you know that you will?” I ask. “When you become a full dragon, will you be the way you are now?”
“No!” he barks. “That’s the whole point! As a full dragon, I will be myself again. I will be powerful and beautiful and perfect! All will tremble before me! Don’t you understand? I am a dragon!”
The last word echoes between the trees and the Plood pull away in terror.
“So you can’t promise,” I try as the echoes die down, “that you will want to help me when you… when you Change?”
“No dragon promises anything, and those who believe a dragon’s promises only deserve to be cheated,” he drawls. “This discussion is now over. Come here.”
“I can’t.” Yikes, meeting a dragon’s gaze like that isn’t for the weak. But I manage, because this is bigger than me.
“You must be confused,” Vyrathion says with a dangerous mildness.
“But I will explain. This village obviously has gold. Gold leaf, perhaps, but still. There may be more of it. Indeed there certainly is. Because that tribe values gold. And if they lost this outside their walls, and they’re not desperately turning the jungle upside-down to find it again, it means they can afford to not care.
That means they have more of it. And I will go and get it. Now do you understand?”
I look away. “Oh, I get that part. I understand there could be gold in that village. But I have to help the girls first. And they may have gold, too.”
“You said that before,” the dragon scoffs. “I remember a lot of ‘if’ and ‘maybe’ and ‘perhaps’ about it. Release yourself from that fantasy and come to where there’s certainly gold. Certainly!”
Shit. He’s really not coming with me. He’s willing to go in a different direction even if I won’t come.
I blink back sudden tears. “Vyrathion. It’s only maybe two days of delay. The time will pass faster than you think.”
“Time?” he snarls. “What do you know about time? For years I’ve been reduced to trod through the mud along with all these lesser species.
Always getting weaker, always having to hide.
Do you know I was kept in a cage that was half underwater for months?
Can you imagine the humiliation? Don’t talk to me about time.
A single second that separates me from my gold is an intolerable eternity! Now, come.”
“I didn’t know about the cage,” I tell him. “Sorry that happened to you. I’m sure you didn’t deserve it. But I have to see these girls.”
“Morgan,” he says in a deadly, flat tone. “Come here.”
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
He lowers his voice. “Those girls are likely dead already. And you will only be eaten by a monster yourself. Why do you think you survived this long? It’s because you were with me! They didn’t dare attack, unless they were unusually stupid! But if they find you alone, you’re dead.”
“I know it’s dangerous,” I tell him. “That’s why I want you to come with me and keep me safe. Only you can keep me safe, Vyrathion.”
He opens his mouth to say something, then changes his mind. “I’m not used to issuing the same command several times. This is the last: come here.”
“What if you find the gold and you Change?”
He smiles. “Excellent. You will see me as I am.”
“But you might not come to help the girls.”
His eyes go narrow. “Did I mention the folly of demanding a dragon to promise something?”
I love Vyrathion. But I may not love the full dragon as much. And the dragon may not feel the same about me as he does now.