The dragon’s eyes were large and focused on me. The huge black pupils were outlined in white that was then ringed in shades of gold before a final black ring. Above the dragon’s head was the row of spines that looked like they could just as easily shred their prey. I knew that the ones on the dragonet had actually been quite soft, but I wasn’t as confident that remained true for adults. Below the eyes was a jaw that was easily half the height of the entire head when closed, but it wasn’t closed. The teeth looked like a semi-circle of small shards of diamond sharpened to a serrated edge. The dragon looked like something that could kill me and slice me into bit-sized chunks with the most casual effort.
It was just a dragon, I told myself. I’d seen many who weren’t a threat at all. House Holder Greenheight said they used to send young children out to steal eggs. It couldn’t be that dangerous. None of the stories I’d been told included people being killed by dragons. Except those ones about the Cammions. I shook my head sharply. Now was not the time to be pessimistic. I’m sure the dragon didn’t want to interfere with me anymore than I wanted to interfere with it. I just had to show I wasn’t a threat.
I edged a little further leftwards along the wall. The dragon took a deep breath. Some inconsequential flaps of skin under the chin unfolded and inflated, and then inflated again. That looked entirely too much like the step before breathing fire. Would a wild dragon have enough access to the magic from the spires here in order to breathe fire? I wasn’t entirely sure, but the dragon seemed to think so, and I wasn’t about to question its expertise. I reacted instinctively to the threat, reversing the deed that caused that reaction, and backed up. I had no rational basis, but to my delighted surprise, it actually worked. The dragon’s neck deflated. It seemed that for some reason it didn’t want me going left. No problem, I didn’t have a strong preference. I continued, very slowly, moving rightwards. A meter past my original position, then another, then… then the dragon breathed in again. I rocked back. The dragon deflated again. I forced myself to think even through my panicked state. After a moment, the penny dropped. The dragon was not willing to flame too close to the eggs. I was protected as long as I stayed in a cone behind the nest.
That was good to know, but not helpful in getting myself away. I found the position immediately behind the eggs and started considering my options. I pulled my backpack around me and dropped it to the ground. A few movements had it opened. Rope, some spikes. Nothing that would hurt or hold a dragon, even if I had some previously undiscovered skills at lasso. Food? Could I distract it with some jerky? I considered what I’d seen of its body language, and decided no. All things considered, no. Magic rituals? I had to admit that being more flame-proof sounded very tempting. I scrabbled through the sheets to find the water ritual. I intentionally overpowered it and drenched myself in as much water as the air had to offer. Which wasn’t as much as I would have liked, but I was at least damp. I dug into the bottom of my pack, despite knowing there was only clothing left. I supposed I hoping something more useful would spontaneously manifest with it.
My primitive brain flooded my body with adrenaline, demanding I pay immediate and urgent attention to the soft, sliding, scratching noise of sand over sand. I looked up and squeaked. I didn’t have enough breath to even manage a scream. The dragon had moved. It was now approaching from the side, calmly and without effort. Its body moved in a disturbing ‘s’ shaped pattern, rippling from the top of its head to the tip of its tail, the wings unfurling slightly in counterbalance, one at a time, in turn. The dragon had moved. Why wouldn’t it? It had legs and wings and everything. It could absolutely move.
I probably was imagining the sound of it inhaling, but I could easily see it. I threw myself in a desperate dive and roll to move myself around and back into the protection of the nest. My backpack was left behind as a sacrifice. It did its job with great flare and panache as it went up in flames. The dragon had been correct. It did, indeed, have enough magic to breathe fire. The edges of the fire caught the edge of my robe, but a few slaps put it out. If I hadn’t cast the water spell, that would have been more difficult, but if I hadn't cast the water spell, I might have noticed the dragon moving earlier. It wasn’t a win, overall. I could keep myself safe, but without the backpack, I was even further away from a plan to get out of there.
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> Don’t be fooled by the description of His Devotion, Saint Percival the Investigator. He is hardly the first person to think of this approach, and in almost every other case, the dragon succeeded in isolating and attacking the human in question. It was an amazing athletic and mental feat to hold that balance.
After some experiments, I figured out how to reposition the dragon. I could convince the dragon to move in a particular direction by tempting the edges with my own movements before a rapid retreat to the opposite edge of the arc. If it wasn’t clear which side would be shorter, the dragon tended to hesitate. I made use of that to position us so that I had access to the door. Being trapped in the academy was preferable to being chargrilled by a dragon. I’d have another chance. With all of this going on, I didn’t think it likely we’d be having the bonding here the following day anyway. I had to turn my back to manipulate the lock. What had been so quick and simple the night before now took an age. I took a glance over my shoulder and moved with a curse. I had taken too long. After some more effort, I re-positioned us and tried again. I was playing the most vicious game of granny’s footsteps that I’d ever encountered. And I was losing. Another two trials were enough to convince me I would never have enough time to undo the lock and return through the door. Plan B. Or was it already C? I moved on to playing a deadly round of round the mulberry bush.
> These are children’s games. Granny’s footsteps is a game where players try to cross a certain distance to tag ‘granny’ while they aren’t looking. If ‘granny’ sees the players move at any time, they have to return to the start. In round the mulberry bush, children sing the associated song. During the chorus, the hold hands and dance around a specified item. During the verse, they performed the actions indicated by the song. Contrary to the words, the item would not have been a mulberry bush, as mulberries did not grow on bushes.
I swapped the positions of me and the dragon. The dragon was against the wall, and I had the freedom of the wide world was behind me. I took a few steps backwards, slow, steady, non-threatening. It did not calm down as I had hoped, even as I moved directly away from its eggs. In fact, it did the opposite of calming down. It bunched up its muscles for a rush. I rapidly angled myself to the side and back towards the eggs and waited for it to relax. I tentatively made a few more attempts, but they just confirmed my first impression. It was not willing to let me go. There was no way I could outrun it long enough to lose it in the cliffs. To be entirely honest, I probably couldn’t outrun it long enough to even cross the bonding grounds. If I’d known this was going to happen, I could have tricked Branneth out. He could have contributed enough blood to corrupt the grounds for weeks and solved two problems at the same time.
Plan D. Climb the wall. I could move along that from side to side as the dragon moved. It didn’t matter that I had lost the ropes and the anchors. This wasn’t they terrifying cliff faces and overhangs of the rest of the route. This was just a single storey of grey blocks and mortar. I rotated us around the nest one more time. The wall was again behind my back. It was reassuring in a way that was completely unjustified considering the position I was in. I dug in my fingertips and started up.
Bad plan, bad plan! The protective cone came with a height maximum as well.
I dropped immediately to the sand and rolled, both to escape the flames and to dissipate the impact of the fall. Once the sound of flames died away, I shakily stood up. I was within the safe cone, but on the wrong side. I was now between the eggs and the dragons. No shield whatsoever. I could see the calculation behind the dragon’s eyes. It was getting tired of our game. I definitely wanted to discourage any thoughts of charging instead. I took a few careful steps backwards. Hopefully, I was too close to the nest to risk that.
It seemed I was right. It didn’t charge. But it did approach with careful and deliberate steps of its own. This was it. I’d run out of plans.
The wind shifted and I processed that an alarm was sounding. My attempt to climb the wall must have triggered it. I felt almost faint with relief. That was definitely what I’d been aiming for. Absolutely. Alert the others so that they could come and rescue me. It had been a very cunning plan that I had succeeded at.
Memo to Self
- Survive