Wind Rider (Return of the Dragons 2)

My first thought was that it was some kind of bird. Then, as they came closer, I knew they were too big to be birds. They were far above, but falling rapidly. Then one was swooping down at me, and I thrust out my sword as it snapped its jaws and raked me with a giant claw. I ducked from the one and held out my shield to meet another. The dragon roared, belched fire from its mouth, and met my shield. Then it was swooping back up in the air again.

Dragons. Impossible. The stuff of tall tales and legends. They didn’t exist – my tutor had proved to me mathematically that nothing that big could fly.

I looked wildly around. Elias was crouched down at the wall, touching runes. The others kept their backs against the mountain as well. The dragons had flown back up and were preparing to swoop down again. Reach out your mind to them, Anders, it’s our only hope.

I backed up to the wall to meet the others, opening my mind and sending it upward. And I met then… intelligence.

WHO DARES TO BREECH THE BOUNDARIES OF THE STONE MOUNTAIN?

It is I, Anders Tomason, three-blood prince, and people of the Tree Mother, of the Forgotten City, and of the Kriek.

I KNOW OF NONE OF THOSE OF WHOM YOU SPEAK.

Then listen.

My blood began to sing.

I don’t know what I sang, but images flashed in my mind, of peoples long lost, of kings so many generations back that only the blood remembered. I held up the sword and Carolina and the blade acted as a beacon, broadcasting up my song. My blood memory sang of the sea, and of civilizations that had fallen, of knowledge and old magic lost and to be found again.

Far above the dragons listened as they circled.

And then something changed.

The dragons as one opened their great maws. And from them rushed forth not fire, not smoke, not cries of battle or rage but song.

Dragon song.

The song reached out and hit my bloodsong and at the point where they touched a great blue circle of energy formed. My sword began vibrating strongly and pulling at my arm.

I gripped it with two hands and continued singing.

I didn’t recognize what I sang, couldn’t understand the song of the dragons, but somehow my blood knew both. I felt their song in my blood, and saw images of battles won and lost, of ancient cities, the land of the merpeople before it fell under the water, the glass castle, and many other images that left nothing but wonder and confusion. I saw men of old, pixie kings and pixie warriors, demons, imps, and men, always more men. Men on horseback, men on dragonback. The tugging continued at my arms.

I looked down for a moment, and almost forgot to continue singing.

The ground was hundreds of feet below me. My mouth closed and the tugging stopped.

I started to fall and Carolina screamed at me: Keep singing Anders! OPEN YOUR MOUTH!

The song of the dragons above me suddenly seemed alien and meaningless, repulsing me now instead of inviting.

The sword went limp above my head, as the ground rushed up to smash me against a stone floor.

My body went limp as I fell.

I was going to die.

Sing, you idiot boy!

I opened my mouth.

The song poured forth, stronger than before. The sword shot up above me, as I held on with all my strength. I was being pulled up again, and my song coursed into the dragonsong — bloodsong and dragonsong united.

The ball above me expanded, and pulsed. It was greater than I had imagined it.

The song pulled me higher. The dragons circled faster above me.

Suddenly I was in the blue globe, and the dragons were there with me, and the song stopped. My mouth closed. I prepared to fall once again.