then there was nothing for them to work together for. Invaders stopped attacking, and King Ivor stopped employing the dragons to patrol the borders. But the dragons still needed gold.”
Corran glanced around and found almost everyone else enraptured by this fairy tale. Henry’s eyes were wide and the old man’s mouth was parted, bread forgotten in his hand. The only person who looked as bored as Corran felt was one of the men about the same age as Huw. He was a carpenter – Walter – and so far Corran hadn’t heard him speak a word. He stared into the fire with an unreadable expression, but traces of anguish flickered on his face.
Corran sneezed as wisps of smoke trailed too close to his nose, then refocused on Gerard’s words. Of course it was ridiculous, but it was always good to know what the enemy was saying.
“– skirmishes near the gold mines as the humans withheld the metal, saying there was no reason to give it to dragons who weren’t doing anything for them in return.”
Exactly as it should be. Why throw away precious metal to dragons who ’ll only horde it?
“Why did the dragons want the gold so much?” Garth asked, a thoughtful look on his face. “It’s valuable, but so are a lot of other things. Why gold?” Originally from a coastal town, he knew little of dragons – the creatures had never gone far from the mountains. And now the poor man he was getting all his information from a terrible source, filled with lies. Well, that was what he got for siding with Firesouls.
“They need it to hatch their eggs.”
Corran looked up in surprise. He’d never heard that one before.
“Dragons are magical creatures – simple warmth will not suffice for their eggs. Gold powers them, and the eggs must be surrounded by it as they grow and when they hatch – else they will be born without the power to breathe fire, or communicate with the mind. A dragon grown and born without gold is not a true dragon. It is more like a lizard with wings.”
Gerard’s expression drew inwards as he described it and there was some degree of pain that knocked on Corran’s curiosity. That pain suggested personal experience – and personal experience meant that maybe this wasn’t just another lie. A glance around their group told him that this was news to everyone else as well. For the first time in these evening stories, he spoke up.
“Why doesn’t everyone know this?”
Gerard responded with a gentle, understanding smile. It was so patronising Corran wished he hadn’t asked.
“Everyone does, in the mountains. In the villages there dragon lore is taught to every child by those who used to be Fliers . We do not speak of it widely outside the mountains.”
“So why tell us?” It didn’t make sense – if this was all real, why would Gerard take the risk of telling strangers a crippling weakness? His father would be ecstatic to hear such information.
But Gerard met his eyes and that look quelled his daydreams of glory. “Because you are Firesouls. With that link to dragons, you are honorary mountain folk. And because you must know every detail of the war to understand that it was not simple greed, as so many people seem to think, that led to the dragons’ end. It was a battle to avoid extinction – and if not for all of you, they would have lost it.”
Corran’s heart beat fast against his chest as he met Gerard’s gaze. It lasted only a few seconds longer before the man leaned back and continued his silly story, telling how dragonslayers came north–east to claim their fame, but Corran’s attention had faded. That last line – it made it sound like it was his fault that the dragons were not dead. Fear filled him again as he imagined how his father would take that news. Would he view Corran as responsible, even though he had been only a tiny child when it happened?
A wave of hatred rose in him for this creature leeching off his insides. He pushed it inside to try and find the dragon, to let it know
Corran glanced around and found almost everyone else enraptured by this fairy tale. Henry’s eyes were wide and the old man’s mouth was parted, bread forgotten in his hand. The only person who looked as bored as Corran felt was one of the men about the same age as Huw. He was a carpenter – Walter – and so far Corran hadn’t heard him speak a word. He stared into the fire with an unreadable expression, but traces of anguish flickered on his face.
Corran sneezed as wisps of smoke trailed too close to his nose, then refocused on Gerard’s words. Of course it was ridiculous, but it was always good to know what the enemy was saying.
“– skirmishes near the gold mines as the humans withheld the metal, saying there was no reason to give it to dragons who weren’t doing anything for them in return.”
Exactly as it should be. Why throw away precious metal to dragons who ’ll only horde it?
“Why did the dragons want the gold so much?” Garth asked, a thoughtful look on his face. “It’s valuable, but so are a lot of other things. Why gold?” Originally from a coastal town, he knew little of dragons – the creatures had never gone far from the mountains. And now the poor man he was getting all his information from a terrible source, filled with lies. Well, that was what he got for siding with Firesouls.
“They need it to hatch their eggs.”
Corran looked up in surprise. He’d never heard that one before.
“Dragons are magical creatures – simple warmth will not suffice for their eggs. Gold powers them, and the eggs must be surrounded by it as they grow and when they hatch – else they will be born without the power to breathe fire, or communicate with the mind. A dragon grown and born without gold is not a true dragon. It is more like a lizard with wings.”
Gerard’s expression drew inwards as he described it and there was some degree of pain that knocked on Corran’s curiosity. That pain suggested personal experience – and personal experience meant that maybe this wasn’t just another lie. A glance around their group told him that this was news to everyone else as well. For the first time in these evening stories, he spoke up.
“Why doesn’t everyone know this?”
Gerard responded with a gentle, understanding smile. It was so patronising Corran wished he hadn’t asked.
“Everyone does, in the mountains. In the villages there dragon lore is taught to every child by those who used to be Fliers . We do not speak of it widely outside the mountains.”
“So why tell us?” It didn’t make sense – if this was all real, why would Gerard take the risk of telling strangers a crippling weakness? His father would be ecstatic to hear such information.
But Gerard met his eyes and that look quelled his daydreams of glory. “Because you are Firesouls. With that link to dragons, you are honorary mountain folk. And because you must know every detail of the war to understand that it was not simple greed, as so many people seem to think, that led to the dragons’ end. It was a battle to avoid extinction – and if not for all of you, they would have lost it.”
Corran’s heart beat fast against his chest as he met Gerard’s gaze. It lasted only a few seconds longer before the man leaned back and continued his silly story, telling how dragonslayers came north–east to claim their fame, but Corran’s attention had faded. That last line – it made it sound like it was his fault that the dragons were not dead. Fear filled him again as he imagined how his father would take that news. Would he view Corran as responsible, even though he had been only a tiny child when it happened?
A wave of hatred rose in him for this creature leeching off his insides. He pushed it inside to try and find the dragon, to let it know
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