When the I heard the cry of the lookout I raced out onto the deck. There it was! The great mountain capitol of the dragonewts. I had to force my way to the edge of the railing through a mixture of merchants, officials and even aeronauts, for though the crew of the airship had made this same journey many times before, I'd been told the sight was so astounding that familiarity did not lessen its impact.
It was an understatement. Across the wide sea of cloud, boiling white and lit salmon- gold by the morning sun, a great dark pinnacle had appeared. This was the Dragon's Tooth, and the thin wisp of smoke that rose from its summit to stain the sky was a warning that it was no mere mountain but a volcano.
"Look," said a boy beside me, dressed in the uniform of an aeronaut yeoman. His finger sought out a part of the mountain as it grew closer. "There, on the right!"
I and the others beside me sought out the target of his pointing. On the side of the mountain, as though growing from its dark stone, was the castle of the dragonewts. Huge curved ramparts cut in tiers from the cliff and towers constructed from the remnants of the stone speared up into the sky, topped with red-and-gold pennants. Lights burned throughout the myriad of windows like stars scattered across a night sky. Yet despite the viciousness of the castle's aspect, it was beautiful, a brutal beauty like that of the dragonewts themselves.
"I had no idea it would be so huge," I muttered. The boy laughed and was about to say something else to me when orders were barked and he scrambled away with his fellow aeronauts across the deck to their stations.
"Frightening, isn't it," said the merchant on my other side. The only ones left now were the passengers of the ship.
I shrugged. "Beautiful, too, though."
The merchant snorted. "Be careful of that eye for beauty, lad. The dragonewts are not to be trifled with. We all have to hope it doesn't come to war"
I listened politely. I'd heard a lot of such talk recently. Tensions had risen between our nation and that of the dragonewts over a territory dispute, but it had not yet come to blows. It would not, I knew. For decades dragonewts and humans had engaged in a game of pushing and posturing. This current disagreement over the southern islands was no different.
But then, my father was ambassador to the dragonewts, and so I was privy to more accurate inside information. He didn't often speak about such things on the few weeks of relaxation he received when he joined my mother and my brothers at home to celebrate one of our seemingly endless series of religious festivals, but the hints were enough.
The merchant continued his spiel. I only half-listened, nodding politely and making the odd conciliatory murmur at some of his more outlandish statements: the dragonewts were on the point of declaring war, the ambassadors were about to be recalled, there was a fleet of their airships hidden somewhere in the southern islands poised to strike our cities on the south coast if we didn't back down...
"Fishing rights," the merchant snorted. "All over fishing rights. Of course the scalies reckon they have a religious right to the southern ocean, even though our interests have long been established..."
I stopped listening and frowned. His use of the common slur 'scalies' irritated me. Such ugly xenophobia was becoming more and more common, but luckily I heard little of it where my family lived.
I didn't want to hear any more. I muttered my apologies and went below decks. We would be mooring in a short while and I had to get my luggage in order.
My heart raced. I'd been in a state of excitement since my father had sent word for me to join him here in Dragon's Tooth. I'd never visited the land of the dragonewts, although I knew much about it. As the youngest son of the family and far from the favourite, I wasn't in the running to take over my father's position so this trip was for pleasure rather than business. My father had asked me to pack my best clothes since my stay here was to be an extended one.
I was happy for the distraction. Life back in Varvasena, despite its myriad of pleasures, had become boring. It was a cosmopolitan city, it was true, of tabernas and cafes and sun-drenched porticoes, but I had little to do there. As the youngest, I was the leftover. Already one of my brothers had joined the army, another the church, and of course the eldest would inherit my father's position, since it was a hereditary one. I found myself thinking back more and more to my schooling. Those had been difficult times for me, but they'd had the benefit at least of having been exciting.
The school had been an international one in the free city of Lampeti. As neutral ground, many ambassadors sent their children there for their education. My brothers hadn't remained there long, since they had were careers waiting for them back home, and with them gone I'd had to fend for myself, which I had without incident - until she came.
I still burned with shame at the thought that it was a girl who had bullied me. Well, perhaps girl misrepresented the situation. She was a female dragonewt, her name Lanissa. That pretty name and - damn it to hell! - her infuriating beauty, intelligence and confidence had all helped to hide a black heart.
I don't know why she singled me out for special attention. I was the only one she would trip with her tail, the only one she would tease unmercifully with her sharp tongue, the only one she'd grab from behind and lift high into the air while she laughed at my wildly kicking feet.
I hated heights. I always had. I usually stayed below decks when airships took off, fearing the sight of the earth receding. In flight I had little problem so long as the ship remained high enough that the clouds became a second ground. But Lanissa, once she had discovered my weakness, had never given me a moment's peace.
I wondered where she was now. Did she live in the capitol? I recalled that her father had been a government official, a rather high-up one. She'd always had the best clothes and all that a child might desire. Of course, I myself had been no pauper, but...
The ship shuddered, the shouting and footfalls of the crew loud through the wood of the deck as they moored the ship.
We'd arrived.
--
As I jockeyed for a place on the deck, juggling my luggage and jostling with the other passengers to cross the gangplank, a consternation arose on the dock. I couldn't see anything due to the crush, but I heard the clatter of armour mixed with exclamations and protests.
Crested helms and the tips of tridents bobbed over the heads of the crowd. Dragonewt soldiers, boarding the ship.
The people before me were pushed aside and a soldier appeared. Like all dragonewts, he was tall, almost seven foot. He was clad in red armour, richly embossed in gold, from the top of his crest to the tip of his tail. His helm, faceless but for the golden slit-pupilled eyes behind it, swivelled as he scanned the crowd.
His eyes settled at last on me. He stepped forward, took hold of my arm and threw open his visor. He scanned my face carefully, then grunted.
"This is the ambassador's son," he said.
Other soldiers appeared and cleared a path through the crowd to the gangplank. The one holding my arm looked down at me.
"Come with me," he said.
What choice did I have? With the soldier still gripping my arm, I struggled to lug my suitcase one-handed, but he grew irritated by the delay and with the click of clawed fingers had another soldier relieve me of my burden. This second individual grinned down at me with a mouth full of needle-sharp canines as he lifted the suitcase effortlessly with his muscular tail.
The crowd watched, hushed, as I was led off the airship.
I swallowed. So the merchant had been right. It was war.
-
"It's not war," said my father. We were sitting in his drawing room, having tea served to us by his human maid. The cushions at my back and a hot cup of tea in my hand were all the more welcome given the fact that I'd expected the soldiers to lead me straight to either prison or execution.
Instead they'd brought me to my father's domicile. It was a dragonewt home, huge rooms carved out of the living rock, but furnished in human opulence, tapestries and dividers making the space more pleasing to the human eye. Walls of dragonewt homes are traditionally decorated with relief carvings documenting the deeds of famous ancestors, but here the gory details were chastely covered by patterned blinds.
"But I'd heard that-"
"It's not war yet," my father interrupted. "But we are most definitely on the cusp of it."
"The southern islands?"
He nodded. "Among other things. Our air-force is on high alert, ready for the inevitable attack."
