I Am Dragonblood: The Grim Beast (Book Four)

Chapter Ten - Death

Had it been days? Weeks? Months? Not months, surely. It didn't take that long to reach Cendane's island, even at a slow pace. Weeks seemed unrealistic too, though one week could be correct. 
    They were still not near their destination, as far as Grimmel could tell in his trancelike state. He'd given up trying to steer the ship away and just gone into a dull, mindless swim, thinking it would make the time pass quicker. His teeth ached, his head ached, even his tusks ached from the chains, making it hard for him stay in his trance. And now to add to the distractions he could hear dragons screeching from above. 
    After a few moments his brain clicked that it was unusual for there to be screeches and shouts. He looked up and saw a cloudy, rippling image of a flock of hundreds of dragons, colours blurred through the water. He slowed, curious, and felt the hull of the ship bump against his back. What was happening up there? Why so many dragons?
    Drago banged on the chains twice, calling Grimmel to the surface. As the chains were taken off the Dragon Master ordered him to take control of the flock, the manic gleam that occasionally appeared back in his eyes. 
    Grimmel called out with his clicking, rattling, controlling sound, watching the colourful array of reptiles become compliant. A complicated series of clicks later he had sent them down to the ships and into the waiting cages, feeling a little sympathy for them. He knew what it was like to be trapped. 
    That done, he sank back down into the ocean, but not before he saw Drago yelling at a mob of guards on another ship. He Shifted to his hybrid form, feeling odd in his human shape after so long as a dragon, and climbed up the rusty, untrustworthy ladder. Peering over he could so no Drago, only a handful of guards, but he could smell the Dragon Master. The scent of an enraged Alpha pervaded even the metal he stood on. 
    Grimmel swung himself over and ran lightly to one of the cages, rather unwisely leaning on the crosshatch bars as he studied the Monstrous Nightmare and Scuttleclaw inside. 
    ‘Sorry about controlling you there, the Alpha commanded me,’ Grimmel apologised, trying to sound meaningful. 
    Both dragons stared at him, their bodies tense and eyes narrowed. 
    ‘I would like to know why you, and your flock, are travelling? Are you searching for something?’ He glanced at the guards standing stiffly a little way away. As far as he knew those ones didn't know he was a Dragonblood, and heck knows what they'd do to him if they saw him speaking Dragontongue. 
    ‘You're right, we are searching,’ the Scuttleclaw said warily. ‘We are looking for a new place to live.’
    The Monstrous Nightmare spoke before he could ask why. ‘Our Queen was killed, we could do nothing to save Cendane.’
    Time seemed to stall for a second, his brain refusing to comprehend what the Nightmare had just said. Surely this wasn't true? His mother, the Queen, the Red Death, dead? It was impossible! She had always been so mighty, so strong, so reliable. Her command was law, not even Drago in his Screaming Death form would have questioned her. 
    But then, she had been getting weaker, the life of living inside a volcano taking its toll. Dragons had broken free from her grasp, including  the two Night Furies, and she had been unable to control her flock like she had done years before.
    It was possible, then, that she was dead. 
    ‘What killed her?’ He growled, unbelieving. 
    The Nightmare shrank back, curling its tail around its legs. ‘A Night Fury and a boy.’
    Grimmel drew in a deep breath. Anger wouldn't help now, but it was hard, so hard to keep it leashed. ‘Where are they? Where did they come from?’
    The two caged dragons looked at each other and pressed against the bars furthest from the Dragonblood. ‘I don't know,’ they said at the same time. 
    Grimmel snarled, gaining odd looks from the guards. He turned away from the two harbingers of death, sliding down the dragon proof metal to crouch on the floor, staring at his clasped hands. He should have been there to protect her, not gallivanting against his will. He should have slain the Fury when he had the chance, checked that the arrow had done its job. He should have just been there... 
    But now it was too late, if this was all true. 
    He heard and felt heavy footsteps approaching, their tread all to familiar to him now, and stood up to find a spearpoint in his face. He looked along the sharp edge to Drago's face, those despised eyes glaring into him. 
    ‘What're you doing up here?’ Drago growled. ‘I told you to take me to the nest!’
    ‘There's no point,’ Grimmel said, his face a mask. ‘The Queen is dead. These dragons are all from the nest.’
    ‘All of them?’
    ‘Yes, all of them.’
    Drago narrowed his eyes, still holding the bullhook in Grimmel's face. ‘I don't believe you,’ he said. 
    Neither do I, Grimmel thought. He swept a hand out, indicating the cowering Monstrous Nightmare and Scuttleclaw in the cage. ‘Ask them.’
    The Dragon Master gave him a hard look and ordered him to return to the water. Grimmel did so, feeling nothing as he gazed at the many caged dragons, some of which he recognised. 
    Only five minutes later guards hauled the chains across the deck and clipped them to the manacles on his tusks. He looked at them in distaste. So small and human they were, so weak when lifting the chains, so scared when he directed his gaze on them. It was a wonder Drago could stand them. 
    As if in answer to his name a thrum ran down the metal links. Grimmel turned the main ship and tugged it forwards, swimming mightily southeast, away from the island.
    Away from his mother for perhaps the last time.