Chapter 44 A Time to Grow #2
“Then, please, Benji… show them what you can that might reassure them. Offer them memories of Kgosi’s kindness and patience, and my admiration of dragons, and leadership of men. Assure them that we come with peace and wisdom and… anything that will help them.”
Benji sighed, then nodded. “I’ll try.”
He started up the remaining hillside, then over its peak, dropping into the small valley below where the male herd milled and called, almost all of them moving, shifting, some weaving because they were anxious.
I was once again struck by the clear boundaries these dragons had been forced to.
Here we were with dozens of them in a small valley.
They could move. They weren’t pressed together.
There were trees and water and space. Their scales were healthy.
But their minds? I couldn’t see how the lack of freedom served them in any good way.
And I couldn’t understand how it was achieved.
Benji walked to the bottom of the hill, and when he stood on the crushed grasses of the dragon’s bowl, he stopped, his eyes fixing on them one by one. I assumed he was attempting to reach them, and prayed he’d take care with his words.
The dragons turned to face us, even those that were pacing changed their lines so they could keep eyes on us.
I knew the moment Kgosi appeared at the top of the hillside, because the dragons all raised their heads. Some called warnings, some flapped their wings agitatedly. Others shrank behind the brothers they trusted to protect them.
What the fuck was going on with these dragons? They acted like… well, like children. But they were all fully grown and most had to be at least thirty or forty years old. Some were older, because their horns had curved.
Benji’s expression went from uncertain, to flat, to frustrated.
“They don’t trust me enough,” he muttered, but so quietly, I wasn’t sure if he spoke to me, or simply to himself.
But then Benji’s expression lightened and he turned east.
I knew the second herd was somewhere in that direction. Not far. And they were females. The two herds had been kept separate, which baffled Bren. But she’d never gotten a clear answer from Hanson about why.
The females had been more open in the past, and I gathered Benji was attempting to reach them. His expression turned to pleading and his eyes grew distant. I prayed he’d found one that would speak to him.
Then one of the males in the group next to us, bugled and trotted forward, shaking his head, but coming to an abrupt, trembling stop facing Benji.
Benji’s face was awed. “The females told him to talk to me.”
“Tell them why we’re here. Let them know Kgosi would rather they come willingly. But we don’t trust the men who hold them here to treat them well.”
Benji’s face twisted. “I’m not sure how… they don’t always understand words.”
Kgosi rumbled from above us on the hillside and Benji turned to look at him, his eyes widening.
‘I have asked for permission from this one… I know how to show them. He considers my proposal.’
It was fascinating to watch the boy’s face shift, emotions chasing each other across his features. His body poised as if for flight. But as moment after moment passed, and nothing changed, I began to sag.
‘Kgosi?’
‘I may have no choice but to take them, Donavyn. Something freezes them. Something they fear more than me. The boy is trying, but… only one responds, and he is very young. He shivers.’
I stood there, barely breathing, praying fervently that these poor dragons would take a leap of faith and trust—but suddenly Kgosi hissed and the dragons in the valley grew agitated again, milling and calling, ruffling wings.
“Benji, what’s going on?”
“I don’t know! They’re… the females are listening. They can understand better. But Kgosi asked me to have them share images of… things that are done to them. I’m not sure I understand, but I think Kgosi does.”
‘Keg? What’s hap—’
“No!” Benji breathed, then rushed forward, running full-tilt towards the dragons who reared back and vocalized—fear, warning, and aggression.
“Benji!” I snapped and instinctively dived after him to yank him back by his collar, but I was stopped by a furious roar from my dragon, freezing me in my tracks as the valley erupted in chaos.
I’d missed Benji and cursed as he disappeared among the dust and tree-trunk legs of the dragons stamping and jittering, some leaping to hover above the grasses for a moment before dropping and screaming.
Then Kgosi roared again—so deep and ragged, so full of fire and rage, the very air shook and the herd erupted, rippling away from Kgosi who descended the hillside behind me, his pounding footsteps shaking the earth.
Time slowed as I turned, throwing my hands up, reflexively begging Kgosi to stop, to pause—had one of the males challenged him?
But the world was a mess of dust, smoke, and earth-shattering roars so that it took a moment to register that Kgosi’s mouth wasn’t open. That he didn’t descend in rage—but a second roar rose.
As I craned my neck back to catch eyes with my galloping dragon, movement in the sky overhead caught my attention and it all became clear.
Carnage.
Kgosi wasn’t running for the dragons. He was coming for me.