Page 2 of Drakhana's Treasure
When I reach the main platform, the others are gathered there. Not one of them looks happy with me. My mother has brought a small bundle with a long strap and I quickly take off my robe and stuff it in the satchel.
We tend to wear loose robes and tunics that we can easily hang around our necks when we shift. Nudity is not a big deal in our culture and the men hardly even notice. I might go months without repairing my robes. Although I did have someone tell me once that the ragged strands flowing over my breasts and hips were far more alluring than nudity.
My mother clings to my father and both of them look upset. They think I can’t handle the trip to the city and I’m inclined to agree. Nothing will stop this though. I’m 22 and I have to stop sitting down in the heart of the mountain all day and every day.
I’m not opposed to knowledge, as the elders assume. I’m also not lazy. I just know there is more for me down there in the shifting silence than there can ever be in a bright and noisy city.
I turn my back on my parents as all the others do the same. I let my dragon come upon me, feeling as always that she is me. I do not put in effort to shift from Kirralee into the dragon, it is the dragon that hovers over me and waits impatiently for the opportunity to take me over.
The wind affects my thin wing membranes immediately and I shiver with the knowledge of the air. The sun warms my scales and I close my eyes, losing myself on the sensations.
The squad leader makes a short, sharp bark. One by one we start to drop from the rocky out crop. Even though I fall and open my wings with perfect confidence, I feel like my breast is being torn in two. When I open my eyes to watch the forest peel away, they are filled with tears.
I look back once, to see Crystal Peak getting smaller and smaller. I don’t want to go.
I don’t want to look ahead.
But I have no choice.
Two
Rastus
Standing on the edge of the desert in the pitch-black dark, a dry wind from the south sweeps around me and ruffles my hair. The stars above glare at me with their cold light, twice as bright here as they are in Vegas.
I pace up the line of limousines that I’ve brought with me, three of them to hold thirteen recruits. The drivers wait inside, all of them old, hardened dragons like me.
They’ve done this before, all of us have. I can feel my face twisting into a scowl even as I fight my temper. I should not be here, this job is so far beneath me it’s ridiculous.
In the early days I loved this part of my job. Back when I was in my early twenties, I did all the lackey work and so long as I didn’t have to return to the peak, I was happy to do the grunt work. A lot has changed since then. I took point on the business end of things when old Jordan retired and went back to the mountain about five years ago.
My days are full of corporate takeovers and investment management. I work nonstop all day and I know my work is valuable. It is only through my efforts that the fire clan stays prosperous. More and more of us are constantly moving to the city and few of them can live on their own terms. Almost all of them need jobs in our businesses.
I reach the end of the line of limos, spin on my heel and stalk back the other way. I expected them to be here by now. Every second that ticks by feels like it digs into my skin. There are things I should be doing that are now piling up into tomorrow’s jobs. Hopefully one of these recruits is going to be a natural at business so someone will be there to take up the slack from me.
I love the work. It’s not like I ever take a day off. I just wouldn’t mind some help in the delicate, constant dance which is keeping shifters hidden from humans and keeping us ahead financially.
Maybe that’s why I don’t like being out here, exposed and vulnerable. From now on we should send the cars further into the wilderness to pick up the new recruits. Some ancient tradition demands that they make the flight here alone and it’s woefully outdated.
The wind stirs again and I try to ignore it. I haven’t shifted in a long time and it’s almost as if my wings are spread to catch the messages being whispered by the distant sands. My dragon grumbles, far off in my blood.
Could I really want to fly, after all this time? I can’t remember the last time I did. My job is to train the younger ones to fit in with humans and work amongst them. It was easy to turn away from my dragon and embrace humanity. The more human I feel, the more normal I appear.
It’s vital in business to project the right image. I’ve spent years ingratiating myself into the right circles and becoming close friends with every heavy hitter in Vegas. Our fortune and business holdings are now in the top five of the city. It doesn’t mean much though, when you have to feed and house a few hundred people before you can calculate a profit.
One of the drivers cracks open his door and lights a cigarette. That’s it. If old Harry has time for a smoke, those baby dragons are taking too long to get here. The worst thing you can possibly do before you start taking a class is piss off the teacher. Being late just shows a blatant disregard for the lesson.
The air stirs and I look up, seeing the stars disappearing. They are coming in, moving towards the ground in a slow spiral. The wind seems to increase but it isn’t the desert, it’s the beating of thirteen sets of wings.
They start to land in a line, one by one. Claws gently touch the earth as they land silently, only a few of them causing puffs of dirt to rise as they hit the ground. All of them tip down on to all four legs before flicking their wings away and shifting. I can hear the drivers moving around behind me, getting ready to watch the next bit.
The first thing recruits have to learn is landing silently and putting their clothes on within seconds. Everyone carries a slender strap around their neck that has been twisted neatly to hold their robes. We’ve all seen some funny shit while new dragons try desperately to get into their clothes and shift at the same time.
The first to land is a big, muscular male. He shifts easily and throws his robe on almost in one movement. The tall girl that lands beside him gets caught in her strap, but she still gets her robe on quickly. I take a step back to watch the rest come down.
Even though I’m already pissed off, I have to admit that they are doing well. They have been practicing and that encourages me. If even one of them has the business sense to go into our apprenticeship program then I’ll finally have someone to help me with paperwork and meetings.
I cast my eyes along the line and I’m satisfied, but not impressed. They stand at attention, waiting for me to acknowledge them. It’s an excellent start.
