CITY OF BRIDGES
CHAPTER 13

13

Resting in the Wyvern’s lair

Leonie spent the next days recovering and getting to know Philbert and the wyverns. It was one thing to have Dorn keep her abreast of everything, but the real thing was more satisfying.

“I have to say though,” she said. “This communication through the mind is amazing, especially the time she allowed me to see through her eyes.”

“Were you able to read her thoughts?” Feiron dished out the evening meal.

“No. She had to send everything to me. She taught me much about what I can and can’t do, but I am no telepath… I reckon I’m far more sensitive to it now though. More aware.”

“More susceptible?” Phil asked.

“On the contrary, as soon as I sense activity, I can hone in on who it is. She showed me a few tricks and how to put up a wall. Apparently even she had difficulty in getting through once I learnt the basics. I can look after myself.”

“I knew she’d be a great help to you,” Phil praised them.

“Dorn is a marvel.” Leonie agreed. “They all are.”

You are too kind. The lair vibrated with the wyvern’s purring.

Leonie studied the interior with a keen eye while she ate. She thought the lair tidy, but then she hadn’t been sure what to expect.

“You were expecting bones strewn all over the floor, perhaps?” Phil laughed when she mentioned it. “A wyvern consumes everything. As they get older, the scales drop off as new ones grow to replace them.” He picked up a handful from the floor and let the coarse grit sift through his fingers. “This ‘sand’ is crushed volcanic rock and scales, which may give you a sign how long wyverns have been in the area.”

When they looked up, they saw many serpentine heads gaze down, unblinking. Their eyes glowed in the gloom with a subtle radiance; the colour of the orbs matching the wyvern’s scales; from the deep blue of the lake, to the orange of the lava bursting from Hell’s Maw.

“All the luxuries of home.” He pointed out the bathing area. “My very own mineral spa.”

“How do you get water up here?” Leonie asked.

“The youngsters fetch it for me. I’ve made up a large leather bucket of sorts. They grip it by the long handle and drop it in the lake to fill up. There’s a hole in the roof. Over the years, I’ve managed to cut a rough channel in the rock. They empty the water into it and by the time the water has flowed to the bath, it’s cool enough not to scald.”

“What made you consider this venture?” Feiron collected the empty plates and piled them to the side. He then retrieved a pot of boiling water for tea.

“Partly because I was young and foolish and wanted to make a name for myself.” Phil reminisced about his earlier times in Tesak. “I got the idea in my head to train wyverns for the Tesak’i, the Lord of all Tesak. It has been done before, in Greol – a lost city I read about in our library. Reenat has its gryphons. I had visions of grandeur – thinking I could do something momentous.”

“We all have those thoughts,” Feiron agreed.

“I was one of the court’s many Healers of Horses. Being part of the Tesak’i’s retinue, even a lowly one such as myself, we all heard stories about other rulers from the staff of visiting nobles. Your accent reminds me of a couple who came from the Delta. A raven-haired woman and a large, hairy male—”

Leonie’s whiskers twitched at this news. “How large?”

“One of the largest men I’ve seen. Not so much in height, though he was maybe a tad taller than me, he was very solid; broad-shouldered and thick limbs.”

Feiron noticed Leonie’s far-away look. “Are you alright?” He handed her a steaming mug.

“Hss? I was thinking of Brendon and Dianah; he was huge and hairy, and I recall she had jet-black hair.”

“They died in the temple fire,” Feiron reminded her.

“No bodies were recovered, you said.” She shrugged. “I’ll remain sceptical.”

“It was over a decade ago,” the illios pointed out, handing another mug to Phil.

“This encounter was also about a decade ago this summer,” Phil continued, “but they named themselves Dana and Roland. They wore commoner’s clothes but had the bearing of the noble-born. They claimed they were from Lyhosa, but their accents weren’t right. In fact, I couldn’t place their accents, but I realise now they sound similar to yours.”

“Perhaps it’s just coincidence.” Feiron suggested to Leonie. “How long have you been training?” He turned to Phil.

“A couple of years now. It’s taken longer than I anticipated.”

“Why? Is training difficult?”

“No, it’s actually very easy – once you get past the ‘not being eaten’ stage.” Phil grinned. “It’s more getting them to work together, not as individuals. They’re very intelligent, you know, almost as intelligent as other races.”

We can hear you. Dorn swayed her tail, the barbs leaving scratches in the rocks.

“Of course you can,” he said. “I was teasing.”

Humans. Sometimes I do not know why I bother.

“Yes, you do, silly lizard; because I’m great company and you love my singing.”

Feiron looked at him quizzically until Leonie explained the conversation.

“You truly sing to them?” Feiron asked.

“Yes, every once in a while.” Phil lowered his voice. “They have no voice for it themselves, sounding akin to a rock-fall.”

We can hear you, Dorn responded.

“But it is true, yes?” He winked at Leonie.

We sing better than you can fly.

Phil burst out laughing.

“You indicated earlier you had another reason why you are here,” Leonie said after sharing the conversation with Feiron.

Phil nodded. “It was an idea based on what this Roland said. He mentioned he was a scholar, travelling to inform whoever would listen of the impending doom we all faced.”

“Impending doom?”

“He said Shak’aran was getting warmer each year, and – perhaps twenty years from now, an ancient race, the l’ithnamagri, would emerge from their hibernation.”

“L’ithnamagri?”

The wyverns growled at the mention of the word.

“All I know is the l’ith are large and formidable creatures; here long before we were.” He looked into his mug, swirling the tea. “Perhaps by then, we’ll have enough wyverns to help protect the city and its people.”

There are not enough wyverns in the whole world for that, Dorn said. These creatures of which you speak are very numerous.

Phil finished his tea and got up for a refill while Leonie stared into her mug.

Feiron broke the growing silence. “Well, this is nothing like what we expected. It has always been said wyverns were cruel,” Feiron said.

“And the stories of how they destroy everything,” Leonie added.

Dorn snorted in response. Other rumbles could be heard from the upper reaches.

“From narrow-minded individuals who couldn’t communicate with them no doubt, present company excluded. We all tend to hate things we fear or don’t understand,” Philbert waxed philosophically.

“Yes, I agree. Remember what happened at Indras, Leonie? We illios are ridiculed because of our looks.”

“It’s the way of the world it seems.” Phil nodded.

I like stories. Slana interrupted their thoughts.

“Hss, not these ones. These stories say your kind is evil, a threat to be removed.”

Slana growled, her body vibrating. But you and your friend are here.

“We had a task… I didn’t really believe you existed.” She shrugged.

“You didn’t?” Phil asked her in surprise.

“We were expecting some weird creature, but you can’t go around believing everything you hear in taverns.” Leonie continued.

“True enough,” Phil agreed.

“Why haven’t you returned to Tesak?” she asked.

“I’m waiting for the last of the eggs to hatch.”

“How many are there? Feiron asked eagerly. “How long does it take?”

“Three more eggs are due to hatch in a couple more weeks, and in a few more months, we should be good to head off. Finally. I can continue the training in Tesak.”

“Do you know of a ready source of eggshells?”

“Eggshells? Ah, is this the quest you spoke of? This could prove tricky for you. The eggs hatch in caves way down inside the volcano. It isn’t the heat alone they require, but certain gases as well. You came at the right time. The youngest wyverns you see around here are only a few months old, but they mature quickly. They are very long-lived and only breed every two decades or so.

“Noldor, the dominant male, was in a terrible state when I came across him, but the females were far more distraught. When the mating time comes upon them, the urge is so intense.

“He barely won the fights with the other suitors. But he was the victor, and the others left. If he died there wouldn’t have been any mating, and if they don’t mate at the right time, the ability to produce offspring can wane. I healed him as best I could, and for my troubles, they agreed to help me until the next mating. Though who’s going to stop them if they decide to leave early is anyone’s guess.”

We gave our word.

“And very gracious of you too.” Phil replied quite sincerely.

“Is Noldor still around?” Leonie asked.

“Not anymore. The male leaves a few months after the courtship, perhaps returning every few years. Noldor left several months back. No doubt he’s off to replace another brood.”

“Typical,” Leonie muttered.

Yes.

Leonie chuckled at Dorn’s response.

“Did I miss something?” Feiron asked.

“A girl joke.” Leonie grinned.

Sparks shot out as Feiron stoked the fire, grumbling about not ‘hearing’ mind-speak.

“My friend, we also promise to let you know everything said in mind-speak from now on, won’t we Leonie?” Philbert added.

“Only if he cheers up,” she teased. “Phil, you said earlier Dorn was Noldor’s ‘first’ chosen; why is that?”

“In the wyvern world, Dorn is very high-up, almost royal—”

Pah, Dorn butted in. My father was renowned for his wisdom and fierceness in combat. He was also one of the oldest and wisest living wyverns. He had a certain nobility about him, but royalty – no. Even if he is an elemental, the world lost a great soul when he parted this life.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Thank you, but unnecessary. It was many years ago, even before you were born.

As the silence stretched, Feiron poured himself another cup of tea and moved the discussion to his own quest. “How hot does it get inside these caves?”

“Dorn?” Phil called out.

The big female wyvern’s head appeared over the ledge, her bright eyes gleaming in the gloom. The cave entrances start about a wingspan above the magma level. I do not know how you measure heat, but I would expect it to be far hotter than you could endure.

Feiron turned to Phil. “Is there anywhere else I could replace eggshells?”

“There are numerous areas where each wyvern chooses to lay the eggs, but only within the vent area where the gases can reach them. There may be dozens of fissures and crevices could lead to a hatchery, but they would be tiny.” He began ladling out the mushroom soup into bowls. “But they would be close enough for the weak telepathic signal of hatchlings to be picked up by the mothers.”

Turning to study the back wall, Feiron sipped his tea silently considering his limited options.

*

As promised, the flying lessons started the following day.

I want the furry one. Slana thought, craning her sinuous neck around to watch.

All that hair? No, thank you, Faldo replied. I bet you sneeze, she will fall and you will get into trouble.

Behave, you two. Dorn chastened the pair before she directed her next thoughts to Leonie. They are still young and have no manners when it comes to strangers.

“It’s alright,” Leonie said. “I know a couple of impetuous youngsters back home.” She remembered to keep Feiron abreast of the conversation.

“It will be a whole new experience for you both, but the principals are simple. Hang on tight and don’t fall off.” Phil chuckled at their looks. “Sorry, just joking, but it’s still good advice.” He pointed out the different aspects of the saddles. “I modified spare horse saddles. There’s a pommel to hang onto and stirrups for your feet. These tethers are to stop you from falling. Each one wraps around your waist and hooks onto the back here.” He pointed to where they attached to the saddles.

“What’re these for?” Leonie asked. She had moved over to Dorn’s flank and was examining Phil’s saddle. On each side of the pommel was a curved flap of hardened leather.

“More modifications. I don’t use the tethers any more. When I mount, my thighs fit snugly underneath each of those flares. It takes getting used to, but far more practicable. Also, in combat, it frees the hands for weapons.” He moved on to describe flying techniques. “I’ve no need for reins. Any instructions are sent telepathically. All you’ll have to do in this case is hang on. Dorn and I will help direct Slana and Faldo. Don’t get me wrong, I know they are quite capable flyers, but sometimes they’ll roll or flip to show off.”

He saw the look on their faces.

“You’re not serious?” There was a slight tremor in Leonie’s voice.

“Please relax. Everything will be alright.” He smiled to reassure them.

Neither looked convinced.

He is a great jester, but this time he is right, you will both be safe. We are far smarter than horses, and some people, I suspect.

When it was time to mount up, the creatures lowered their long necks so their jaws were almost touching the ground. Philbert guided the novice riders, Leonie on Slana, then Feiron on Faldo.

Placing a paw in the stirrups, Leonie grabbed the pommel and heaved herself up, throwing her leg over.

Feiron then oozed into position.

That looks interesting. I wish I could do that. Faldo said to him.

“He can’t hear you, Faldo,” Phil said out aloud.

You mean he is deaf? The young wyvern looked closely at his passenger.

Only to mind-speak, Phil replied. So be nice. After he’d checked they were both belted into their saddles, Philbert climbed onto Dorn.

“The take-off is probably the roughest part,” he called out. “Lean forward, hang on very tightly and after a few wing-beats, it should smooth out.”

Dorn launched herself. Slana readied herself for flight, as did Faldo.

Hang on, furry-one. Slana crouched, bunched her leg muscles and raised her wings and, like a released spring, she threw herself into the air; her wings snapping down. The strength of the jump was unbelievable. Even with the warning, the jolt was so intense Leonie almost lost her grip. With a deep thrumming sound drowning out all other noise, Slana rose into the sky at an exhilarating rate. Peering below, Leonie could make out Feiron hanging on to Faldo, but couldn’t tell if he was enjoying himself or not.

Her mind reeled at the height; her ears lowered slightly, turning sideways. She had never been so far above the ground before. Climbing around rooftops was one thing, but this was an entirely new experience, with no comparison. The wind beat at her fur, the fresh cold permeated her skin, the sound of wings beating drummed in her ears; the muscles rippled between her thighs. It was exciting beyond description. She felt so alive.

You like to fly, it seems.

“It’s all very new to me. It’s so wonderful.”

It is pleasing to know this. Do you think your friend is enjoying himself?

Leonie looked across to Feiron and waved. He waved back, calling something, but the rushing air snatched away the sound of his voice.

“Yes,” she replied. “I think he’s enjoying himself.”

The three wyverns levelled out and flew close to each other in a triangle formation. The younger wyverns were side by side, their wingtips almost touching with each languid beat. Dorn was behind and slightly higher, where she and Philbert could keep an eye on them and their novice passengers.

The group circled, using the thermals to gain altitude. One moment the cliffs raced by, close enough to see the details of the rough and craggy fascia, then suddenly as they flew out over the canyon, the ground dropped away revealing the shimmering surface of the lake. The landscape transformed into a mosaic of colours and textures, with the sparse forest spread out below like a carpet of dark green lace interspersed with the darker colour of the rocky ground.

The Central Ranges, sweeping to the north and south, faded with the distance. Beyond the lower peaks, a whole series of higher peaks came into view, and only now did Leonie comprehend their sheer immensity. It was no wonder they had described it as the ‘Spine of the World’. Another turn and the view changed again.

Leonie made out the spidery trail of a road below. She lifted her gaze. Out of sight beyond the southern horizon lay Delta. In a weird way, she actually missed the place; dark and dangerous, yes, but it was all she had known.

All too soon, the trio headed back to the lair.

As much as she hated to admit it, Leonie was tired and out of condition. After a quick bite to eat, she did a short series of stretches before resting. She slept through dinner, and both Feiron and Phil were reluctant to wake her. Her moans during her nightmares indicated she still had some recovering to do.

“Don’t be overly concerned for your friend. The wyverns monitor her constantly,” Phil reassured Feiron.

* * *