“Well,” said the voice. “You see, one of the disadvantages of being dead is that one is released as it were from the bonds of time and therefore I can see everything that has happened or will happen, all at the same time except that of course I now know that Time does not, for all practical purposes, exist.”

“That doesn’t sound like a disadvantage,” said Twoflower.

“You don’t think so? Imagine every moment being at one and the same time a distant memory and a nasty surprise and you’ll see what I mean. Anyway, I now recall what it was I am about to tell you. Or have I already done so? That’s a fine looking dragon, by the way. Or don’t I say that, yet?”

“It is rather good. It just turned up,” said Twoflower.

“It turned up?” said the voice. “You summoned it!”

“Yes, well, all I did-“

“You have the Power! “

“All I did was think of it.”

“That’s what the Power is. Have I already told you that I am Greicha the First? Or is that next? I’m sorry, but I haven’t had too much experience of transcendence. Anyway, yes -the Power. It summons dragons, you know.”

“I think you already told me that,” said Twoflower.

“Did I? I certainly intended to,” said the dead man.

“But how does it? I’ve been thinking about dragons all my life, but this is the first time one has turned up.”

“Oh well, you see, the truth of the matter is that dragons have never existed as you (and, until I was poisoned some three months ago,) I understand existence. I’m talking about the true dragon, draconis nobilis, you understand; the swamp dragon, draconis vulgaris, is a base creature and not worth our consideration. The true dragon, on the other hand, is a creature of such refinement of spirit that they can only take on form in this world if they are conceived by the most skilled imagination. And even then the said imagination must be in some place heavily impregnated with magic which helps to weaken the walls between the world of the seen and unseen. Then the dragons pop through, as it were, and impress their form on this world’s possibility matrix. I was very good at it when I was alive. I could imagine up to, oh, five hundred dragons at a time. Now Liessa, the most skilled of my children, can barely imagine fifty rather nondescript creatures. So much for a progressive education. She doesn’t really believe in them. That’s why her dragons are rather boring while yours,” said the voice of Greicha, “is almost as good as some of mine used to be. A sight for sore eyes, not that I have any to speak of now.”

Twoflower said hurriedly, “You keep saying you’re dead…”

“Well?”

“Well, the dead, er, they, you know, don’t talk much. As a rule.”

“I used to be an exceptionally powerful wizard. My daughter poisoned me, of course. It is the generally accepted method of succession in our family, but,” the corpse sighed, or at least a sigh came from the air a few feet above it, “it soon became obvious that none of my three children is sufficiently powerful to wrest the lordship of the Wyrmberg from the other two. A most unsatisfactory arrangement. A kingdom like ours has to have one ruler. So I resolved to remain alive in an unofficial capacity, which of course annoys them all immensely. I won’t give my children the satisfaction of burying me until there is only one of them left to perform the ceremony.” There was a nasty wheezing noise. Twoflower decided that it was meant to be a chuckle.

“So it was one of them that kidnapped us?” said Twoflower.

“Liessa,” said the dead wizard’s voice. “My daughter. Her power is strongest, you know. My sons’ dragons are incapable of flying more than a few miles before they fade.”

“Fade? I did notice that we could see through the one that brought us here,” said Twoflower. “I thought that was a bit odd.”

“Of course,” said Greicha. “The Power only works near the Wyrmberg. It’s the inverse square law you know. At least, I think it is. As the dragons fly further away they begin to dwindle. Otherwise my little Liessa would be ruling the whole world by now, if I know anything about it. But I can see I mustn’t keep you. I expect you’ll be wanting to rescue your friend.”

Twoflower gaped. “Hrun?” he said.

“Not him. The skinny wizard. My son Lio!rt is trying to hack him to pieces. I admired the way you rescued him. Will, I mean.”

Twoflower drew himself up to his full height, an easy task. “Where is he?” he said, heading towards the door with what he hoped was an heroic stride.

“Just follow the pathway in the dust,” said the voice. “Liessa comes to see me sometimes. She still comes to see her old dad, my little girl. She was the only one with the strength of character to murder me. A chip off the old block. Good luck, by the way. I seem to recall I said that. Will say it now, I mean.”

The rambling voice got lost in a maze of tenses as Twoflower ran along the dead tunnels, with the dragon loping along easily behind him. But soon he was leaning against a pillar, completely out of breath. It seemed ages since he’d had anything to eat.

Why don’t you fly? said Ninereeds, inside his head. The dragon spread its wings and gave an experimental flap, which lifted it momentarily off the ground. Twoflower stared for a moment, then ran forward and clambered quickly on to the beast’s neck. Soon they were airborne, the dragon skimming along easily a few feet from the floor and leaving a billowing cloud of dust in its wake.

Twoflower hung on as best he could as Ninereeds swooped through a succession of caverns and soared around a spiral staircase that could easily have accommodated a retreating army. At the top they emerged into the more inhabited regions, the mirrors at every corridor corner brightly polished and reflecting a pale light.

I smell other dragons.

The wings became a blur and Twoflower was jerked back as the dragon veered and sped off down a side corridor like a gnat-crazed swallow. Another sharp turn sent them soaring out of a tunnel mouth in the side of a vast cavern. There were rocks far below, and up above were broad shafts of light from great holes near the roof. A lot of activity on the ceiling, too… as Ninereeds hovered, thumping the air with his wings, Twoflower peered up at the shapes of roosting beasts and tiny men-shaped dots that were somehow walking upside down.

Tags: Terry Pratchett Discworld Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net