The Draykon Series (1-3)

Lokant: Chapter Twenty-Two

When they went on again, Pensould set a more sustainable pace. His anger had dissipated while he slept, and his mood now was more subdued, even dejected, though his drive remained undiminished. They hunted. Llandry had not yet grown used to the draykon style of dining; raw meat was no substitute at all for her mother's cooking, but she was hungry enough to eat anything. Pensould gobbled his food, barely giving her enough time to finish her meal before he drove them on again. She didn't know where he was going, but she didn't trouble to ask.

At last his onward flight stopped and he hurtled downwards so fast that she feared he would drive himself nose-first into the ground. But he landed, successfully if ungracefully.

Here, he told her. Here!

He was right. A grave lay beneath the soil, a web of draykon bones pulsing faintly with energy. Scanning the area, she found no holes in the pattern. To all appearances, this skeleton was complete.

They had travelled so far into the realm of Iskyr that Llandry recognised nothing. Gone were the glissenwol trees of her homeland; they were far beyond those parts of the realm that corresponded geographically with Glinnery. She and Pensould stood within a wide plain, carpeted in feathery silvered grass. Two suns shone in skies stained a deeper shade of purple than the lavender she often saw. A tiny scaled creature ran over one of her feet, its long tail lashing with fright when her head moved. Sigwide bounced down from his station between her shoulders and ran after it.

Fun, he observed. She left him to it. Pensould was aloft again, circling the plain with powerful strokes of his sweeping wings.

No intruders, he reported to her. We go to work. He settled near to her again and turned his attention to the sleeping draykon that rested beneath their feet. Llandry did the same.

At first she sensed nothing but the faintest pulse of energy flowing through the bones. It was enough; some trace of life remained in this somnolent beast. It was a spark that could be fanned back into a roaring blaze.

But she had to go much deeper before she felt a flicker of consciousness. Some peripheral trace of awareness remained as well, not really awareness but something that had the potential to be. Pensould began calling to it, plucking and nudging at this whisper of consciousness, trying to draw it out. She joined her efforts to his, celebrating as gradually, slowly, she began to sense echoes of the beast's mind.

Pensould began pouring his own energy into the sleeping draykon, turning its faint life force into a steady flow. Llandry felt its mind snap open. It recognised their efforts, understood and consented in what they were trying to do. And it - she - was ferocious in her desire to awaken.

That was when the pain began. It gripped Llandry's body, relentless, the same pain she had felt when Pensould had awakened near to her. Now she understood what was happening: the draykon was drawing away her life force, channelling it into its own regeneration. Beneath her feet, bones were disappearing under muscle, under scaled hide; a renewed body was being formed from the vitality of Llandry's own.

It hurt worse even than it had last time. At first she couldn't understand this; she shared this burden with Pensould, so how could the pain be so shattering? But then she remembered. Pensould's regeneration had already been largely complete when she had arrived; this draykon was rebuilding herself entirely.

She gritted her teeth, trying not to scream. She failed. The scream emerged as an animal roar, her voice joining Pensould's, though she heard as much elation as pain in his cry. An extreme pulse of energy set the earth shuddering; it cracked under her feet, the earth loosening itself, preparing to expunge the beast that fought to escape.