A Reason to Live

He ran, slipping and sliding in the deep snow on the embankment, the Scales floundering in his wake. He heard a crash as the sluice and then the bridge finally gave way, the rush of the water tearing them both apart. The lake was emptying itself in its own way, sending everything that had held it cartwheeling down the mountainside in pieces. A part of Kemir still thought he should have sent the Scales down there too. Slit his throat and kicked the body into the torrent of water. Would probably have been kinder than taking him back to Snow. But the man was making his own choice. The Scales could run away any time he liked.

And then there was the dragon, who probably wouldn’t manage to keep any of her precious alchemists alive for long enough to ask any interesting questions. A Scales was better than nothing. The dragon would be grateful . . . He laughed at himself for that. Grateful? Snow? No. Now he thought about it, he wasn’t even sure why he’d emptied the lake. Because he could. Because alchemists did to dragons what riders did to outsiders. Because, even at their worst, he’d rather have dragons than dragon-riders . . .

Really? And if it had been a dragon without a rider who’d come to our little village, would the end really have been any different?

He was almost grateful for the errant piece of building that tripped him up and sent him sprawling in the mud. The twilight was fading now, the mist-shrouded blaze of the burning eyrie the only real light. Made it hard to see where a man was putting his feet, but then there was so much snow on everything out here that maybe that didn’t make any difference either. Up above, the castle was burning properly now. Flames reached out of the windows to lick the night.

He picked himself up and hauled the Scales after him, back towards Snow and whatever was left of the alchemists she’d found. They passed the barracks where the dragon had landed, smashed to pieces now. Parts were still burning inside. Around it, the ground was bare and black and soaking wet, the snow all melted in the heat. The air stank of woodsmoke and burned flesh and damp. Further on, where the alchemists had lived, Snow was where he’d left her, pacing up and down over the ruins of what had once been some stone building, raking the ground with her claws.

Tunnels. They have fled under the ground.

Behind Kemir the Scales let out a scream. It went on and on and on. For a few seconds Kemir thought it might never stop. Then the Scales took a deep breath. He looked as though he might be about to start again, so Kemir punched him in the stomach. The Scales went down. Kemir clutched his fist and swore. Either the Scales was wearing armour or he truly was well on his way to turning into stone.

‘I brought you this one,’ he said to Snow.

He followed you, Kemir.

‘He’s a Scales. Which means he’s stupid.’

A Scales. Like the one who was with me when I awoke. Kailin. He was the only one of your kind I have found who was not afraid of me.

‘Oh yes. Another one of the people who tried to help you and ended up eaten for their troubles.’ He’d forgotten the man’s name. Almost forgotten he even existed. He shrugged. ‘I think the potions they take for the Hatchling Disease means they can’t think properly.’ He hauled the Scales to his feet. ‘He might be useful; he might not. Hey! Scales!’

The Scales looked at him. He was white with fear.

‘Well, this one isn’t not afraid of you.’

This one understands. Snow stamped on the ruins of the alchemist house and the whole mountain seemed to shake. I feel them in there, Kemir. I will clear away one of their holes. You will go in and hunt them for me.

‘No, I bloody well won’t, dragon. I’m not going in any dark holes full of soldiers, thank you.’ He sniffed and looked at the quivering Scales. ‘When it’s daylight, maybe. After I’ve dealt with the riders up in the castle.’

Why do you seek to anger me?

‘I’m just not going to get killed for you. I don’t give a stuff whether that angers you or not. Live with it.’

She looked at him and he felt her wonder. You fear me and so you defy me.

‘Don’t be daft, dragon.’

I see it in you. You fight your fear by defying me. It is a curious thing to do. It does not seem . . . wise.

He could almost feel her poking around inside his thoughts. The sensation was like having an itch in a place you couldn’t scratch. ‘You know what? I think I’m going to lie down somewhere and get some sleep. Maybe I’ll help you once it’s light again.’

Snow lowered her face towards him and bared her teeth. Again you test me?

Kemir cringed. ‘You have bad breath, dragon. Take that away!’ He could see her tail begin to twitch. Not a good sign. With a quickness that belonged to a much smaller animal, Snow sprang across the stones. As she landed sideways, her tail lashed out into the darkness. There was a scream. When her tail emerged from the wreckage, something dangled from the tip. She tossed it up into the air. There was a limp flailing of limbs before the dragon caught it between her teeth and swallowed it down.

Shall I keep this one you have brought me alive? Shall I keep it as a means to persuade you, Kemir?

‘Clutching at straws, dragon. You’ll need a much better threat than that and you know it. Learn to wait. Your alchemists will still be cowering in their holes come the morning. They might be more interested in talking by then.’ He could feel the anger boiling inside her so he turned away, kept his steps slow and measured and didn’t look back. The dragon was right. He fought his fear by refusing to be afraid, no matter how bad it got. It was what he’d always done.

Didn’t need to have someone poke inside my head and point it out though. He kept walking. The eyrie was littered with places to hide and away from the fires it was dark now. He made his way to the barracks where Snow had first landed. The end she’d smashed was still burning nicely and looked like it would be going for some time. The other end wasn’t much better, but not so shattered that it wouldn’t offer some shelter. In the middle of the floor he almost trod on what turned out to be a jewellery box, half covered in ash. The outside was scorched and ruined, but inside he found a small stash of coin and a pouch filled with Souldust. He stared at it, wondering what to do. What use it was.

Six months ago I’d be jumping for joy. That’s a month’s pay and never mind the dust. But now what? Coins I can’t spend and dust I don’t want? He almost threw it away, but a lifetime of living from day to day got the better of him and put the coins and the dust in his belt bag instead. Then he propped himself up against a piece of stone wall in the middle that looked like it wasn’t going to fall down on top of him while he slept. He huddled down and tried to make himself comfortable, massaging his feet until he could feel his toes again. It was pleasantly warm from the fire and at least the ground here was dry. Like a dead dragon, burning from the inside.

The dragon had changed since they’d been on the island. Since she’d awoken three more of her kind, one had become four. Maybe that was it, maybe having company of her own kind was what had made her more remote. Or maybe she’d always been that way and he simply hadn’t wanted to notice.

Or maybe it was something else. He caught a hint of something in the dragon’s thoughts sometimes. Something to do with the ships they’d seen when they left the island. The Taiytakei they were called, but the dragon had spoken of something else. Silver men. She wouldn’t talk to him about the silver men, whatever they were, but they were in the dragons’ thoughts and made them uncomfortable.

Which led him nowhere. If the dragons weren’t going to tell him then he wasn’t going to find out. That was that. End of. Time to get some sleep. Amazing how easy that still was, falling asleep, with the world on fire around him.

He woke up frozen stiff. A cold dawn was lighting up the peaks on the other side of the valley, making them shine like giant lanterns. Above, through the broken bones of the roof, he could see the sky, clear now, a deep violet blue, waiting for the sun to breach the mountaintops. The snow clouds had gone, off to bother someone else. Where he lay was still dark, wrapped in leftover shadows. The wall, so deliciously warm when he’d fallen asleep, was like ice, sucking the heat out of him, but what had woken him were screams. Long, piercing screams, over and over.

He tried to stand up. When that didn’t work, he settled for climbing as far as all fours. Every muscle in his body seemed frozen solid. Eventually he managed to get to his feet. He could have kicked himself. Amazing how easily he fell asleep, and just as amazing how quickly he’d forgotten how cold these mountains were when you had a dragon to keep you warm every night.

The screaming was still there, fading in and out until it eventually stopped. There were embers glowing in the far parts of the barracks. Kemir went and sat by them until he felt warm again. That took long enough for the sun to creep over the summits, for it to light up the eyrie and let him see what the dragons had done. Every building had been smashed flat and then burned. Barracks, storehouses, stables, the houses of the alchemists, everything. Where the little lake had been there was nothing but mud and the fractured remains of a vast sheet of ice. Higher up, the castle seemed more intact, although a pall of smoke hung over it. Snow was still prowling around where the alchemists had been, picking at the wreckage, lifting out the occasional fragment of wall and tossing it aside. He couldn’t see the other dragons.

Kemir sighed. Wearily, he walked over to her. All the snow was gone, melted by the heat of the dragons.

‘Well, dragon? I heard screaming. Did you get one?’

Snow stopped. She regarded him with a steady glare. Does it matter, Kemir? Another human. I would have spared her, but you were not here and I was annoyed and bored, so I toyed with her and then ate her. Is that what you wished to hear? Nothing about her thoughts suggested she was joking. Kemir shivered. It is light. I require an al-chemist. I feel them, deep beneath the earth, on the edge of my thoughts. You will get one for me now, yes?

‘How deep is deep, dragon?’

They are few, Kemir. They are weak. They will not be able to hurt you.

Kemir snorted. ‘You’d be amazed what even a weak man can do if you frighten him enough. So what’s in it for me?’

If you cease to be useful, you become food.

‘Bollocks to you.’ He picked up a stone and threw it at her as hard as he could. It bounced off her nose. ‘Without me, dragon, you and yours would be throwing yourselves against one of the vast eyries of the plains. You’d be riddled with poison and scorpion bolts and wondering what went wrong. Just maybe, as you were burning from the inside, you’d be thinking that you should have listened to me, but probably not, because you’re all so blindly arrogant when it comes to that sort of thing. Without me, dragon, you wouldn’t even know these mountain eyries existed, much less have found any of them. I thought that’s why you tolerated me. Because without me your ignorance and your impatience make you so stupid that you might as well keep taking the alchemists’ potions.’

Snow lowered her face until she was inches from Kemir’s nose. When she hissed, she smelled of warm blood. Her head seemed huge, even if she was small for a dragon. As large as a cart with a mouth big enough to swallow a horse and lined with a hundred dagger-like teeth as long as his forearm. Her eyes were as big as his head.

The little one you brought to me had knowledge in the ways of this world, Kemir, more than yours. He knew many things that you do not. Events have happened since I awoke. I require to know more. I require an alchemist.

Kemir took a step forward. He was nose to nose with the dragon now. ‘Maybe I just won’t, dragon. Has that thought occurred to you?’

They have knowledge of the dragon-knight who killed your nest-brother. Shall I pluck it from their thoughts before I devour you, or do you prefer to die in ignorance? It matters little to me.

A silence hung between them. The silence of a wound ripped open. Time stopped. The mountain and the eyrie and the sky all vanished. There was only him and the dragon. ‘What?’

I require an alchemist, Kemir.

‘The Scales. Where is he?’ It had to be the Scales. He must have known something after all.

For an answer, Snow licked her lips.

‘You ate him.’

An alchemist, Kemir. You will bring me an alchemist.