Tooth and Claw: A Short Dragon Tale Read online

very things on others.”

  “People created dragons?” Jena repeated, trying to take the thought in.

  “Yes, and they lived to regret it. However, to continue, in addition to we Pteros, there are the Bryophyta - the Moss Dragons, the Magnoliophyta - Flower Dragons, and the Pinophyta - Pine Dragons.”

  “Pteros, Bryos, Mags and Pines, got it.”

  “Yes. Ferns, mosses and flowers are grown in the fields, but the pines are different. There exists but one of these, far larger than any other, and she rules all. When her death approaches, or when she reaches a certain age, she shakes scores of seeds from beneath her wings, which begin to grow. Eventually she devours all of her children but the strongest, which she raises to adulthood. When the younger is ready, she kills her mother and assumes the throne. Daf’q slaughtered her parent five years ago.”

  “Charming. Wait - that’s only four. You said there were five families.”

  “Ah yes, the Eukaryota - grey, slimy Fungus Dragons. They are wild & unpredictable creatures, violent and cruel, controlled by no-one. They exist beyond the fringes of the kingdom. Sadly, as you know only too well, Daf’q sees fit to send hordes of your kin to fight them out there and lose their lives. She fears that without such cannon-fodder to keep them busy the Euks will come and attack us here.”

  “My daughter goes to that fight shortly.”

  “Then you have my sympathy. I regret that I am unable to offer any comfort that your daughter’s death will have any meaning. My belief is that the Euks are quite happy where they are, and not in the least bothered about us here. It is nothing more than senseless slaughter to send hominids to die under their claws. Ah, we are here.”

  3 Magnoliophyta

  Luedtke set them down at the top of the precipice and bid them a cheery farewell. It fell to exercising its wings as they walked away, easing its old joints. After her conversation with the old Fern Dragon, Jena had even more doubts what she had to do. Plainly, all dragonkind were not evil. There existed at least one, and likely more, that had kind hearts and a more accepting view of humanity than they had been led to believe. If she poisoned them all, she would be killing innocents as well as evil tyrants. Now that she thought about it, perhaps all of the dragon young were innocents. Perhaps their enslavement of humankind was learned behaviour; learned from the evil Pine Dragon that ruled them. If only there existed some way of pruning the Pines from the dragon family tree then both races might live in harmony.

  It was a pipedream, but a lovely thought. In reality she had no choice. Yes, Jena hated what she had to do, but she would do it. For James’ sake.

  “Come on,” she intoned, “Let’s get on with this.”

  Jena took one of the swan-necked flasks from her bag as they walked the path between two fields. To their right grew ranks of almost ripe Bryos, while on their left a swathe of young plants carried buds that had not yet formed enough for Jena to make out what kind of dragon they might be. From the pinkish tint of the stems she might hazard a guess that they were Mags. She unstoppered the flask and hesitated, sighing.

  “Hurry up,” Susi urged, “None can see. Let’s just kill the evil sods, clean the queen’s teeth, and get out of here as soon as we can.”

  “It’s not that simple. They’re not all evil. Luedtke was friendly, even sympathetic.”

  “They are all evil because even if they disagree with treating people as slaves they do nothing to stop it. And I can’t believe you’re hesitating when your son’s life is at stake. Let me do it, if you won’t.”

  “You’re right, of course. I have to do this for James.” She tipped the flask and a gobbet of oily fluid fell from the flask. It soaked remarkably quickly into the soil. She repeated the action on the other side of the path and they quickly walked on.

  “What about those fields over there?” Susi pointed out other fields beyond those adjacent to the path. There were no paths to these further fields. Dragons had no use for paths since they could fly. The trail of hard, packed earth that they walked on was maintained purely for the use of humans that were summoned to Dragonhome, although why they couldn’t simply be flown directly to the mountain rather than having to traipse from the cliff-edge was beyond Jena. The women edged their way between the already spoiled Bryo field on their right and a field of young Pteros that adjoined it. Jena poured a measure of the poison into the rich earth of this field also, emptying her first flask. Three fields down, perhaps a dozen to go.

  “Hominid! What is it you do there?” Jena whipped about, momentarily surprised to see nothing before realising that she was thinking in two dimensions. She looked up to see a small Mag, perhaps eight feet from head to tail, hovering close enough that she could make out the individual petals that covered its skin. It wore an expression of such concern, apprehension and hurt that Jena immediately felt remorse for her actions.

  Susi took a step forward. “Just exploring,” she said. “Nothing to worry about.”

  “Oh, but I do worry, hominid. You poured blackness into the soil of my young. What is your purpose?”

  “That was merely—”

  “Poison. It was poison,” Jena interrupted her friend. “I’m sorry, Susi, I can’t do this. There must be another way, other than lying and destroying innocents. Will you listen to my explanation, dragon, before taking action? Please?”

  “You are Jena, the dentist?”

  “I am. You know my name?”

  “Luedtke sent me to speak with you. He said that you might be the one for whom we have been waiting.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “And nor will you, unless you can justify to me your actions here in slaughtering the innocent young. Then I shall decide whether to explain further, or whether to simply eviscerate you where you stand. Choose your words carefully.” The Mag settled to the ground on its powerful hind legs and sat back using its tail as support. It was easily within striking distance, which made Jena’s voice tremble slightly as she began her story. Her voice steadied as her tale went on, and the Mag began to show interest. She told it of their nerve-wracking descent the previous day, and of arriving home to find her son gone. She told of Johnson Miller and his threat to kill her son if she did not do as he asked. She made clear her strong belief that he meant every word that he had said. She showed the Mag the flasks of the dark Weedkiller, and explained its foul purpose; that it was designed to wipe out the dragon species, at her hand.

  “Then you were doing this to save your offspring?” the Mag asked. Jena nodded. “You must understand then, that if I end your life now it is for the same reason?” Again Jena indicated her understanding, and tensed in preparation for the killing blow.

  “I believe, however, that there is a better solution for both of us,” the Mag said. “I think that we can help each other. You may call me Thibodeau. Luedtke tells me that you believe—”

  “How? We’ve only just left him. There’s been no time.”

  “We do not only speak with words.”

  “You’re telepathic?”

  “No we are not. We have developed a way of speaking at a distance by use of many subtle wing positions. As you left Luedtke, it told me that you believe as we do, that our two species should live in harmony and mutual respect.”

  “Who is ‘we’?”

  “Certainly almost all of my family, and most of Luedtke’s. Perhaps not the Bryos, but they are followers in nature and will ride with the prevailing wind. If we can remove the Pinophyte line and its control over the Bryos, then we will all be able to work together to make this a fairer world for everyone, whether dragon or hominid.”

  “Then overpower Daf’q and get rid of her. There must easily be enough of you.”

  “She would see us coming, or her guards would, and she would order all of the Bryos to defend the entrance to her cavern. There would result a huge battle with much loss of life, even before we could reach her. A better, less bloody way would be to approach her from behind, unseen, for a surprise attack. Luckily, there
exists a rear entrance to her cavern. It is small, but a Mag, or several, might squeeze through unseen and kill Daf’q while she sleeps. There is just one problem, which is where you come in.”

  “I’m not sure I’m going to like this.”

  “The rear entrance was created by hominids at some forgotten time, which is presumably why it is so small. It was also barred by them and locked from the inside. We once attempted to break through the barrier, an action for which a dozen Mags were slaughtered. You, hominid, have access to Daf’q’s cavern. You are also a hominid, and therefore it is likely that you would know how to open the barrier. After you next treat Daf’q, we want you sneak to the rear of her cavern and let us in. We will do the rest. Will you do this thing for us? For us all?”

  “No. I will not risk my son’s life.”

  “Then we shall make sure that he is safe first. We will rescue your offspring and then you will help us. Do we have an accord?”

  “I don’t even know where James is.”

  “We can find him. We have had a friend watching you for some weeks, since you first came to our attention as one who might be sympathetic to our aims. This friend saw the tall hominid and his cohorts remove your offspring, and, I believe, has the ability to discover his whereabouts. We can go and fetch him now, if you wish?”

  “Dragon, if you rescue my son, then I will lend what little aid I can to your cause.”

  “Very well. I have to say, this has been a good conversation. Climb upon my back. I am unable to bear two of you, so you must stay here, friend of Jena.”

  “Jena, are you sure about this?” Susi asked her friend.

  “I’m not sure of anything,” Jena replied, settling herself onto Thibodeau’s back. The scales that covered its torso were shaped like butterfly wings, like the leaves of the ginkgo. She tucked her legs in behind the dragon’s wings. “I’m just riding the wind, Susi, and this particular wind promises to bring my son safely home.” Susi shrugged and sat cross-legged on the ground and leaned against the backpack containing the dental equipment.

  “We shall return once the young hominid is safe, Jena-friend, and you will both continue to your appointment with the Dark Queen and change the world’s axis.” The Flower Dragon took off, angling back towards the edge of the plateau.

  They swung down the precipice, in rather less frenetic a manner than the Bryo had descended the previous day. Jena’s mind was surprisingly calm, in view of the myriad things it had to process. Could she trust these dragons? Who was the dragons’ friend, their spy? Would attempting to rescue James actually put her son in danger? Perhaps he was already in constant danger, wherever he was. She briefly considered all these things, only to dismiss them without trying to answer. It was easier to act that way. She was indeed riding the wind wherever it took her, and for some unknown reason she found herself trusting this creature that rode the wind with her.

  As they landed close to the edge of The Scorching, Bryan scampered up to them as usual. Jena slid from Thibodeau’s back and threw out her arms to greet the dog. This time, however, he ignored her and sat before the red dragon. The dragon yipped, then barked. Bryan emitted a curious rising whine, and the dragon barked once more. The dog huffed, then stood and came to greet Jena, wagging his big tail.

  Jena eyed Thibodeau curiously. “What was that? Were you talking to my dog?”

  “I was indeed communicating with your canine. Such communication is comprised of both vocal elements and body language. You do not do this?”

  “Well, I say ‘Who’s a good boy?’ occasionally.”

  “Then you miss much. The canine does certainly believe that he may find your son, were you only to allow him to bury his nose in one of your offspring’s garments for a moment, as a reminder of his scent.”

  “Bryan? Bryan’s your spy?” The dog barked. Jena took a moment, then spoke again. “Let’s go to my house. Will you fit through the trees?”

  “I am sufficiently flexible,” Thibodeau nodded, and folded its wings tightly against its body, like a flower closing up for the night.

  “Heel, Bryan,” commanded Jena, and the ragtag trio made their way through the forest towards Jena’s tree. Most villagers that saw them simply stood and stared at the unique sight of a dragon walking through the forest. None spoke. This may have been from fear, or possibly amazement that a dragon could be small enough to walk beneath the trees. Mags rarely descended from the plateau. The path was occasionally a tight squeeze for Thibodeau, but the dragon was lithe and flexible enough to find a way through.

  When they reached home Jena greeted a worried Lizzie warmly, and reassured her that her early return was nothing to worry about. When she stepped outside to be introduced to the dragon she simply gaped.

  “It is a friend,” Jena told her daughter, “Thibodeau is going to help us find James, and then maybe begin a series of events that would lead to your not having to go to the Fringe.”

  “Is it a ‘he’ or a ‘she’?” Lizzie asked, standing close to her mother.

  “I am neither, offspring of Jena,” Thibodeau said, “I am simply me. I believe that it is customary for hominids to greet a new friend by the shaking of hands?” The dragon extended a foreleg, the attached wing unfurling gracefully. Lizzie hesitantly took one of the large claws and shook gently. Her eyes gleamed. “Now, if you could please provide canine Bryan with an article of the clothing of your brother, then we shall quickly rescue him.”

  Lizzie ran to into the house for a moment before emerging clutching a large cloth, which she held out to the dragon. Thibodeau inclined his head, indicating the patient dog. Lizzie took the cloth to Bryan, who buried his nose in the material, snuffling loudly. He circled the area in front of the house for a moment, sniffing the ground, then circled Jena’s tree. Three-quarters of the way round he gave a satisfied bark, and headed off down a rarely-used path.

  “Follow the canine,” Thibodeau told Jena, “I am unable to move as swiftly between the trees as you, but I will be close behind.”

  “Lizzie, wait here!” Jena told her daughter, then hastened after Bryan. Lizzie watched the red dragon stoop beneath a low branch as it followed more slowly, disappearing into the trees. Lizzie looked about the now empty space doubtfully.

  “The hell with it,” she said, and sprinted after them.

  Bryan led Jena out of the village along a meandering path to a part of the forest that she did not know. The path twisted, forked and turned, but generally led them east. After some fifteen minutes Bryan stopped, sat, and look back as Jena caught up.

  “What’s wrong, boy?” She peered through the undergrowth and saw a most unusual structure. It was built, rather than carved from the trees, and it was made of metal. Huge sheets of the stuff, far more than Jena had ever seen in her life before. The few metal items in the village, pots and pans mostly, and a few knives, were brought to them by the trade caravan that made the hazardous journey from the south once a year to trade for medicines that the villagers made from the ginkgo. Jena’s dental instruments had come to her father that way, and they had passed to her when he died.

  Stained metal walls supported a corrugated roof which was covered with moss and debris that had fallen from nearby trees. There were no visible windows, but a path had been worn to a door set in the centre of the facing wall. A faded sign above the door could just be read through decades of accumulated grime. It said ‘PROJECT 217 - NURSERY 3’.

  Bryan whined, and took a step forward.

  “Wait,” Jena commanded. Without the backup of a dragon ally she was not at all confident about a confrontation with the imposing Johnson Miller and an unknown number of cohorts. She laid a reassuring hand on Bryan’s warm head and looked into his eyes. “Good boy,” she whispered. “Let’s wait for your dragon friend.” He licked her hand, wet and warm.

  She looked back up and her heart skipped a beat. Lizzie! What was she doing there? Her daughter was by the right corner of the building. Jena frantically waved to draw Lizzie’s attention, b
ut the girl’s attention was fixed on the weird metal building and she crossed towards the door. Jena stood, but the door opened before she could move to warn her daughter. Johnson Miller stepped out right in front of Lizzie, who jumped with a small squeal. For a tall man he was exceptionally quick, both of wit and limb. He grabbed Lizzie’s shoulders and spun her round in front of him so that both captor and captive faced the trees. His left arm held her tight against him, while his right held a dagger pointed at Lizzie’s neck.

  “Well now,” he said loudly. “I never thought you’d have it in you, dentist. I assume you are out there, watching? I doubt that your daughter would have wandered out here of her own accord.”

  Jena remained silent. Bryan shifted impatiently, but continued to obey the command to wait.

  “Ah well, it’s up to you. Skulk there and watch me slaughter your daughter if you must. Or perhaps I shall have a little fun first.” He moved his left hand slowly across Lizzie’s chest, lifting and pinching. She gasped and tears rimmed her eyes. This was too much.

  “Let her go!” said Jena, stepping out of the bushes. “She’s innocent, leave her and my son out of this.”

  “I’m very disappointed in you. You should just have done what I asked. Now you’ll all die, as an example to our next unwilling volunteer.”

  “Listen, believe it or not,” Jena tried, “We’re on the same side. We both want an end to the dragons’ dominance over us.”

  “Then why did you not kill them all as I asked?”

  “Because they are not all evil. Many are good, and want the same as us.”

  “What the hell gave you that idea?”

  “I have friends, dragon friends. They are ready to overthrow their ruler, with my help. We can trust them, help them, and win our freedom without slaughtering scores of innocents.”

  “You idiot. You think you can trust them? You can never trust a wyrm. The people who grew them here knew that, right from the start! Where do you think I got the Weedkiller? Wyrms are slimy, black-hearted evil. There’s not a one of them that isn’t a blight on this land. The only good dragon is a d—”

  Lizzie stamped her heel down hard on Johnson Miller’s instep, at the same time elbowing him in the belly and wrenching herself away. He grimaced in agony, doubling over and dropping the knife.

  “Purple!” he yelled, presumably to people inside the building. “Fuller! Kill the—” A large red object blurred above Jena’s head as she hugged Lizzie safely to her. The arc of Thibodeau’s leap brought it crashing down on Johnson Miller before he could finish his command. The dragon’s talons ended his life before he even knew what was happening. Bryan could restrain himself no longer and, barking loudly, ran to the dragon’s side. He grabbed the dead man’s foot and shook