Dragon Rigger Read Free Page A
Book: Dragon Rigger Read Free
Author: Jeffrey A. Carver
Tags: Science-Fiction
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sunlight? Now it was gone. But he had heard a voice. A moment later he caught another sparkle of light in the corner of his eye, and he looked again.
Flying alongside him was an airy being of light. It seemed to have no substance; it expanded and contracted as it flew, like a slow-moving flame. "Iffling!" Windrush murmured.
The iffling made no response. Windrush was accustomed to this behavior from ifflings, though he sometimes found it irritating. He flew on, letting the iffling follow in formation.
When it finally spoke, he almost missed its whisper. Where you are bound, dragon, you might well find one who can help.
Windrush rolled slightly toward the iffling, peering at its intangible form. "Did you speak?" he rumbled.
With a chime of laughter, the iffling transformed itself into a dragon-shaped flame. Am I so difficult to hear? You must listen to me, dragon-leader!
Windrush flicked his gaze ahead to his course. "I am listening."
Very well . Do you fly in search of the Dream Mountain?
"Of course! What do you imagine?"
Then perhaps I can help.
"Indeed!" Windrush whispered, with more frustration than relief. "How often have I called out to you, asking the way? But your kind would not come to tell me."
The iffling flickered as it glided alongside him. It answered, sadly it seemed, It is not that we would not , dragon, but that we could not . Do we know the way? Not any way that we could tell you.
Windrush let his anger erupt in spite of himself. "You always act as if you know such things!"
Dragon! Do we travel on the winds? Do you travel as the ifflings do? What good to spin images of airs and currents that you could never know—that we cannot even travel ourselves?
Windrush flew in silence, absorbing the iffling's words. "Perhaps," he muttered. "But couldn't you have just said so? Why must you always speak in riddles?" He already regretted his outburst. He had no quarrel with the iffling. "Still," he sighed, beating his wings, "I suppose I would rather hear your riddles than nothing at all."
If the iffling had taken offense, it gave no sign. You must search for a cavern, it murmured.
"A cavern?"
In the ridge ahead, in a place of forgotten magic.
Windrush cleared his great throat.
There you may find one like a demon, a changeling spirit.
The dragon coughed a small flame into the wind. A demon? A changeling spirit? That sounded more like a drahl than a friend. Still, his friend Jael had once been likened to a demon, and he would have given almost anything to see her again. But his friend Jael was a human.
The iffling seemed to recognize his thought. I doubt that it is anyone you know—or who will welcome you. Nevertheless, if you speak to it with care, you may gain useful knowledge.
"Knowledge?" Windrush asked. "What sort of knowledge?"
The iffling did not answer. Windrush beat his wings, scanning the peaks ahead. That odd storm cloud had risen and dissipated. Perhaps, he thought, it had merely been a coincidence of nature; or perhaps a perfectly ordinary cloud had passed close to a place of power. When he glanced sideways again, his companion seemed to have disappeared. "Iffling?"
Then he saw its twinkle in the air, a little behind him. It was dropping away, and its words sounded tired, as though it were having trouble maintaining its presence here. You must pass into the range. Look for a cavern within . Use all your senses to locate the entrance. But beware of treachery! And with that, the iffling vanished.
Windrush clenched and unclenched his talons, exhaling slowly as he soared onward. Beware of treachery? It seemed to him that advice from an iffling always carried some warning of danger. But their advice also generally turned out to be perceptive and true, and he had never regretted following it. And given his present need, what choice did he have?
* * *
He flew high over the range. The sharp summits of the mountains passed beneath him, icy grey claws reaching toward the sky. The wind
Flying alongside him was an airy being of light. It seemed to have no substance; it expanded and contracted as it flew, like a slow-moving flame. "Iffling!" Windrush murmured.
The iffling made no response. Windrush was accustomed to this behavior from ifflings, though he sometimes found it irritating. He flew on, letting the iffling follow in formation.
When it finally spoke, he almost missed its whisper. Where you are bound, dragon, you might well find one who can help.
Windrush rolled slightly toward the iffling, peering at its intangible form. "Did you speak?" he rumbled.
With a chime of laughter, the iffling transformed itself into a dragon-shaped flame. Am I so difficult to hear? You must listen to me, dragon-leader!
Windrush flicked his gaze ahead to his course. "I am listening."
Very well . Do you fly in search of the Dream Mountain?
"Of course! What do you imagine?"
Then perhaps I can help.
"Indeed!" Windrush whispered, with more frustration than relief. "How often have I called out to you, asking the way? But your kind would not come to tell me."
The iffling flickered as it glided alongside him. It answered, sadly it seemed, It is not that we would not , dragon, but that we could not . Do we know the way? Not any way that we could tell you.
Windrush let his anger erupt in spite of himself. "You always act as if you know such things!"
Dragon! Do we travel on the winds? Do you travel as the ifflings do? What good to spin images of airs and currents that you could never know—that we cannot even travel ourselves?
Windrush flew in silence, absorbing the iffling's words. "Perhaps," he muttered. "But couldn't you have just said so? Why must you always speak in riddles?" He already regretted his outburst. He had no quarrel with the iffling. "Still," he sighed, beating his wings, "I suppose I would rather hear your riddles than nothing at all."
If the iffling had taken offense, it gave no sign. You must search for a cavern, it murmured.
"A cavern?"
In the ridge ahead, in a place of forgotten magic.
Windrush cleared his great throat.
There you may find one like a demon, a changeling spirit.
The dragon coughed a small flame into the wind. A demon? A changeling spirit? That sounded more like a drahl than a friend. Still, his friend Jael had once been likened to a demon, and he would have given almost anything to see her again. But his friend Jael was a human.
The iffling seemed to recognize his thought. I doubt that it is anyone you know—or who will welcome you. Nevertheless, if you speak to it with care, you may gain useful knowledge.
"Knowledge?" Windrush asked. "What sort of knowledge?"
The iffling did not answer. Windrush beat his wings, scanning the peaks ahead. That odd storm cloud had risen and dissipated. Perhaps, he thought, it had merely been a coincidence of nature; or perhaps a perfectly ordinary cloud had passed close to a place of power. When he glanced sideways again, his companion seemed to have disappeared. "Iffling?"
Then he saw its twinkle in the air, a little behind him. It was dropping away, and its words sounded tired, as though it were having trouble maintaining its presence here. You must pass into the range. Look for a cavern within . Use all your senses to locate the entrance. But beware of treachery! And with that, the iffling vanished.
Windrush clenched and unclenched his talons, exhaling slowly as he soared onward. Beware of treachery? It seemed to him that advice from an iffling always carried some warning of danger. But their advice also generally turned out to be perceptive and true, and he had never regretted following it. And given his present need, what choice did he have?
* * *
He flew high over the range. The sharp summits of the mountains passed beneath him, icy grey claws reaching toward the sky. The wind