Dragon Airlines

Nim watched the dark blue dragon coast down gently onto the Docking Field. He was large, his back taller than five horses atop each other. His head alone was much bigger than Nim. Along his back, he wore a long saddle made to hold fifteen people at maximum, designed for the passengers' comfort as they soared through the skies.

Stairs on wheels were rolled up to the dragon's side so the passengers could easily dismount. Slowly, the passengers began disembarking, hauling their belongings off with them.

Nim bounced eagerly. This would be her first time traveling by dragon and she was excited.

After all the passengers were off, the crew members approached the dragon, who watched them with sapphire eyes. He spoke, his voice deep and rumbling, but quiet enough that Nim and any others waiting nearby her could hear.

The crew members stirred uneasily. Nim craned her head for a better look at the dragon and crew. Finally, a crewman seemed to take command and spoke to the rest of the crew. They all began scurrying about about. Ten or twenty people started taking off the saddle. As it was long and covered most of the dragon's broad back, it was quite a chore. Murmurs spread through the crowd. Was this dragon not their ride? Why were they taking off the saddle?

The crew member who had ordered the others about now approached them and called out loudly, “We are all very sorry for this great inconvenience, but Rigdar here,” he gestured at the blue dragon behind him, “has informed us that there is a large storm gathering swiftly and coming this way from the south. He strained himself greatly trying to reach Cariath before the storm.”

Nim, a nervous feeling knotting her stomach, glanced skyward. The trees around the Docking Field, however, were tall and hid the horizon from sight. There was no trace of clouds in the blue sky above.

“I am sorry to say that this will stall our flight. We have communicated with the other Docking Fields and canceled the other flights. Vogran, Stegal, and Crimog will not be coming until the storm abates.”

“Does this mean we're stranded?” someone in the crowd shouted out, his voice tight with anxiety.

“Unfortunately, yes,” the crewman said.

But there are the steamships, Nim thought. They were on an island, a two-week journey from the mainland, the country Araldi, from where Nim came from. She had taken the steamship from the coast to the island, a midpoint between the two major countries, Araldi to the south and Layêth to the north, though Cariath was a few miles closer to Araldi. She could not afford to fly on dragonback the whole way. The dragons of both countries used Cariath Island as a mutual resting point, so a dragon would not have to fly directly from Araldi to Layêth in one shot—a trip that, on dragonback, would take almost a week. Four or five weeks by boat.

“And the boats,” the crewman added as if reading Nim's thoughts, “are not strong enough, nor large enough, to travel back safely to Araldi through a storm.”

Collective groans arose from dozens of throats.

“Are there no other ways to reach Layêth?” a man dressed in fancy clothes, a butler laden with heavy baggage behind him, shoved his way to the front of the crowd. “I have important business. I cannot be delayed.”

“Earl Kanan, I am sorry, there are not. You have picked a bad time for travel—everyone wants to at this time of year. Rigdar is the only one here and he is not equipped to fly through storms with passengers.”

Fear wormed its way into her stomach. Can nothing be done?

“Are there at least places we may stay while we await the storm's end?” Earl Kanan queried, glancing around at the forest surrounding the Docking Field. Nim followed his gaze. There was only one building visible—and it was little more than a very large pavilion, made for the dragons in the dead of summer when there was no other shade to cover them.

The crewman bit his lip. “There are, but—”

“Then lead us to them!” chorused the crowd.

“But,” the crewman continued, lifting a finger, “they are small and were built for the workmen and for storage. You of the richer class may not find them satisfactory.”

So long as it is shelter, Nim thought ruefully, remembering her home back in Araldi when she was younger. Small, damp, cramped, and generally very uncomfortable. Her mother—her father had died some months after Nim had been born—had worked hard to keep her family full and warm and happy. But people like Earl Kanan might not find it to be good enough.

“Take us,” Earl Kanan commanded regally. “Already I feel a stir on the breeze.”

Nim looked at the skies. What that an edge of a dark cloud, just peeing over the trees? Or was it only her frightened imagination, putting things where they were not?

“It will be crowded,” the crewman warned, but he headed off into the woods, following a wide, well-worn dirt path. The crowd shuffled after him, gathering up their belongings as they went. Nim slung her pack onto her back and followed.

By the time they reached the buildings the crewman had spoken of, there was a definite chill in the wind and it had arisen slightly. Darkness began to pervade the wood, sifting through the leaves and branches to gather on the ground below. A distant boom of thunder rumbled far away on the horizon and the crowds stirred with fear.

The buildings were low and long, built of old concrete with a flat roof. Nim could see cracks in the walls and where the crewmen had desperately tried to patch them. The only windows were tall, narrow, and shuttered closed. The crewman opened the door and Nim, who was near the head of the crowd, winced as the hinges protested shrilly.

They began filtering into the long building, some people trying to be the first, others reluctant to enter for the place looked dingy and old.

The building inside had a low ceiling and was dim, the only light filtering through the cracks in the shutters and through the open door. Bunk beds lined the walls, covered with rough gray blankets. Small tables sat by the bottom bunks and shelves at the top. Chests were situated at the foot of each bed. A musty smell pervaded the air, but overall, besides the obvious lack of décor and the simplicity of the place, it seemed clean enough.

“Welcome to the place we stay a quarter of the year,” the crewman said with a melancholy sigh.

“I cannot believe you live here,” one woman piped up, lifting one corner of a blanket on a bed. “For a whole season! Must be absolutely awful for you! You need some livelihood in here.” She paused, for all that had been said quickly without drawing breath, but was interrupted by a loud bang! as the door slammed shut in a sudden burst of wind. Rain almost instantly began pelting the island after the first gust of wind subsided briefly. The wind came howling across the ocean and through the woods and hit the buildings, creating a wild, yet mournful, keening noise as it slid over the cracks in the shutters and walls.

Somewhere in the crowded room a baby began to cry and a mother began to hush.

They waited for a while, some people situating themselves on the bunks or ground, or others, such as Earl Kanan and his butler, refused to sit.

Suddenly, the door banged open, slamming against the wall with such force the rusty hinges nearly broke. Three of the crew members stumbled in, drenched by rain.

“It's a tsunami! Ermet, a tsunami!” the first one hollered, her hair plastered all across her face. Gasps and a few screams issued from the crowd. Nim felt her heart nearly stop. She had never encountered a tsunami before, but she had heard tales—none of which had happy endings. And on an island, especially a small one, could easily be drowned.

“What?” the crewman who had led them into the buildings, whose name was Ermet.

“We have to get everyone into the old watch tower!” she shouted back.

“It's too unstable in the storm!” Ermet yelled. “It hasn't been used in years!”

“Better than here,” she replied, her voice nearly drowned by the storm. “We're too low! We need to reach higher ground!”

Ermet nodded. “Follow me!” he bellowed, lifting a hand above his head. He plunged out into the storm, the crew members following him. The crowd hesitated.

Nim looked around. They were afraid of the storm. She was too, but more of what could happen. She did not want to be drowned alive in the building, crowded with dozens of strangers. She shoved her way through the crowd and out into the storm. Rain pelted her from every possible direction. The droplets hurt, stinging like small hail. Her boots immediately sank deep into the sucking mud and she had to work to get free to firmer ground. She found she could not see far in any direction, due to the shadows of the trees and storm, and the sheeting rain.

Slowly, then faster, the crowds began pouring out of the building, some uttering cries of distaste as mud splattered across them. When everyone had gathered out of the building, Ermet took the lead and set off at a rapid pace along the path.

Nim found herself wishing for something to keep the rain off. She did not mind being wet, but it hurt as the water pelted her head and neck. She wrapped her arms around herself and struggled to lift a foot out of the thick mud.

They soon reached the Docking Fields, then passed them and crossed onto a road, much like the one to the buildings, only smaller and more unused.

Lightening was the only light they had. Sometimes it lit up the forest for a second, everything silhouetted in an unnatural white light with sharp contrast. Then it would pass as a crack of thunder resonated through the clouds.

Finally, they reached the tower that the crew member had spoken of. It was a tall structure, looming high, high above the trees. It was not enclosed—the people would not be sheltered from the rain. There was, at the top, a roof, but no sides.

“Will we all fit?” someone screamed.

“Not all at the top,” Ermet yelled. There were multiple platforms, Nim could see. The staircase ran up around the outside of the square tower till it halted at the top. The whole structure did not look sound. She prayed that it would not collapse on them.

They pressed forward and began the ascent. The stairs were steep and slippery with rain. Only two people could fit abreast, so the going was painfully slow.

As Nim reached a height from where the ocean could be seen, her heart stuck in her throat and she struggled to draw breath. The waters had receded from the shore and a roiling wave was rising above the ocean, churning with frothy white.

“Move!” someone behind her growled and Nim leaped to comply, having not realized she'd stopped. Unfortunately, her step was not one of care and, on the sodden wood boards her foot slipped and she fell with a crash. Her nose smashed against the stair with a sharp crack and stars spun dizzily in her vision. The breath escaped her lungs in a whoomph and she began sliding down the stairs, grabbing for something to stop. The people behind her screamed and tried to dodge out of the way. She grasped a railing and stopped with a painful jerk. She rose unsteadily to her feet, struggling to breathe and holding her nose, from which blood dripped. It felt broken.

“Sorry,” she gasped and stumbled up again, her chest, arms, and head aching.

There was no more room at the top platform. The people began crowding into the second-highest one. Nim made it to the third highest and found a place by the railing. She could see the entire island now. The steamships and docks were nearly stranded as the waters receded. A large wave, much higher and stronger than any Nim had seen before, raced toward the shore and slammed into the island, the water surging into the forest.

Again and again, the waves struck the island, each bigger than the last.

She heard a scream below and glanced down to the base of the tower. Water was swirling around the posts, frothing white with foam. The water swelled and the tower lurched. Nim shrieked, the noise echoed by every other throat on the tower.

If this tower falls, we're doomed, she thought with terror, her knuckles white as she gripped the railing. In the distance, she could see Rigdar, the blue dragon, fighting madly to keep balanced in the wind. There was no longer a place for him to land.

The tower swayed again, its old timbers creaking alarmingly.

The crashing waters rose higher until they nearly covered the lowest platform, which, thankfully, held no one. The pressure was too much for the old lookout tower. It groaned and there was a sharp crack that all heard above the storm. The tower began to fall, the movement almost in slow motion. People screamed as they tumbled across the platforms and into one another.

Suddenly, the movement stopped. Nim, shoved tightly against the railing by many bodies, craned her neck upward to look. Rigdar was holding the top of the tower, keeping it from falling, but how long could he last? Alone, he could hardly keep himself up. But now, it seemed, with an anchor, he could hold. And hold he did, for a long time.

The time seemed to pass excruciatingly slowly, but Nim guessed it had been three or four hours before Rigdar could no longer hold the tower. It began to slowly tilt again until it was crashing downward. The island had long since been covered by water and even the treetops were no longer visible. The lowest two platforms were submerged. The third lowest held people.

With a roar, Rigdar lurched out from under the tower, just as it stuck the waves.

Nim felt the impact like she had jumped off a twenty-foot cliff onto solid rock. Pain radiated through her body and she found she could not swim upward. There were too many people atop her and the water churned madly. She struggled to free herself, but everyone was thrashing and the task was nearly impossible.

Her lungs burned fiercely and she could feel the pressure on her chest. Something hit her stomach and she gasped instinctively. Water began flooding her lungs and she choked. Somehow her feet came into contact with the railing and she shoved her way upward, fighting desperately through the crush of struggling bodies. Then, miraculously, her head broke the surface and she spluttered, expelling water from her lungs. She barely had time to take another breath, however, before she was shoved under the water once more.

She fought the waves for a long time, barely able to snatch a breath at times. A long wood board spun past her and she grabbed it, hauling herself onto it until she straddled the wood with arms and legs. Often times she was still pulled underwater as another powerful wave crashed over her, but it was better than floundering about uselessly as she always, at some point or another, surfaced.

In this manner, she lasted over an hour. She could not tell how anyone else had fared. The water, she suddenly realized, was losing its force and momentum. They were gradually receding and she found she could stay above the water for longer periods.

The sun was low on the horizon by the time the waters calmed more and Nim no longer was dunked. She was able to hang, exhausted, from the board, and look across the ocean for other survivors. Impossible to miss, Rigdar floated on the waves, his blue wings spread to keep balance.

As a small wave slipped under her and she rose, Nim could see various other people hanging from wood pieces like she was. Some people floated facedown and she looked away quickly, shuddering. For all the people visible, many more were missing. She could see Earl Kanan, but not his butler.

The waves shook the ocean gently now and Nim found it hard to believe that this was where, hours ago, the ocean was a raging, untamable mass.

Debris littered the water—remnants of all that had been on the island. Not just the tower and buildings, but the trees as well.

The waters continued to calm all throughout the night. Nim and many of the others managed to reach Rigdar, where they could grasp the spines on his back or hang on his wings as he floated serenely. Nim was utterly exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep, which was impossible on the back of a dragon in an ocean.

Come morning parts of the island were showing and Rigdar swam to the small bit of land that was visible. Most of the trees were gone, and those that were left were broken and stripped of their leaves.

She hugged the land, wishing to never leave it again. Her mouth was dry and salty and her tongue was swollen from lack of fresh water.

“I shall take you back to the mainland later,” Rigdar rasped. “There are few enough of you left to all fit atop my back.”

Everyone was too exhausted to reply.

Business that had been so important the day before was now out of the mind, kicked away by the need for survival.

All were simply glad to be alive.