The Equen Queen (9 page)

Tab was in the dungeon when they crossed the vortex the second time. For a while she slept, and then she had been staring at the egg, watching it quiver and roll across the floor, trailing a waft of pungent smoke like a church incense burner. She had tried covering it with a dirty, old blanket she found, but the fabric began to smoulder, and filled the cell with acrid smoke, so she took it off again. She was afraid of what would happen when the egg finally opened, but for the time being, at least she could warm her hands by it.

Soon the dungeon bars started to vibrate and the ground shuddered. She clung to the metal shafts in the doorway, imagining the whole city collapsing on top of her, crushing her into shredded meat.

Low cries and grunts came from nearby cells as the turbulence tossed the other prisoners around in their cells. The egg rolled toward her and Tab held it steady with one hand, ignoring the burning sensation. It was preferable to having the egg smash against the wall, releasing a disoriented, frightened baby dragon in a small space.

After a while the trembling stopped. Tab let go of the egg, leaned her back against the bars and waited. Other prisoners called out to each other. From their conversation Tab guessed they must have been the sky-traders that Storm and her City Watch had rounded up after the previous vortex-jump.

Tab took out her Loraskian mood stone and turned it over in her hand. It seemed cloudier than it had been before, but it could have been the light.

Soon she heard footsteps coming down the stairs – too light and quick to be the prison guards, and too soon to be conquering sky-traders. She dared hope it was her friends and was delighted when they called out to her.

‘I can't believe it's you!’ Tab thrust her hands through the bars and Philmon and Amelia grabbed one each.

‘You must be starving! We brought you some bread and cheese.’ Amelia pushed a muslin-wrapped package between the bars.

Tab rocked back on her heels and loosened the cloth quickly, tearing great chunks of bread. She took the canteen from Philmon's outstretched hand and poured the water into her mouth.

Amelia and Philmon told her about their adventures fighting with the sky-traders, how Amelia had protected the Archon's Palace, holding the wall in place with her skills in levitation when the fortifications were almost breached, about their trip back through the vortex, and about what awaited them on the other side – not one, but two sky-cities!

‘Tolrush?’ Tab asked, wide-eyed. Quentaris had left her enemy city behind not long ago. As Verris had reminded her, it was only a matter of time before Tolrush found them.

‘No, it's a new city,’ Amelia answered. ‘It's huge.’

She told Tab about the enormous battle city bound by metal and studs. Of colossal, robed soldiers, with dome-shaped helmets easily seen with the naked eye, even from this distance, how they could hear the drums pounding, punctuating the soldiers’ training drills, and intricate ceremonies with coloured flares.

‘The sky-traders are sending up flares in answer, but we don't know what they mean. They are both just floating there at the moment, but there's a new battle in the air,’ Philmon added. ‘You can feel it.’

Tab took out her mood stone again, and her friends followed suit. The gems were definitely darker and cloudier than they had been, although it was hard to make out the colour in the dingy light.

‘Must be the Loraskians,’ Tab mused tucking her gem back into her pocket.

Then Tab remembered seeing Torby. So much had happened that she hadn't had a chance to tell her friends how she had seen him in the window and how he had sent down a gust of wind like a hug. ‘Stelka seems to think we would be a distraction to him, but I don't know. If I was sick I'd want to know that someone out there cared about me getting better.’

Amelia and Philmon promised to go past the window when they could, in case Torby was looking out again.

‘And Melprin?’ Tab asked between mouthfuls.

‘She's made a real mess of the sky-traders’ city,’ Philmon said, grinning. ‘You should see it! Their sails are torn, masts are down, buildings are rubble.’

‘But where is she?’ Tab asked.

Amelia shook her head. ‘Nobody has seen her.’

All their eyes turned towards the egg.

‘What are you going to do?’ Amelia asked.

Tab sighed. ‘The council believes that when it hatches I'll be able to talk to it, or maybe meld with it to calm it down, but I'm not sure if I can. I only know one dragon, and she isn't like a cow, or a rat, she's …’ Tab trailed off. ‘I can't explain it, but it doesn't work that way.’

‘Nice friends you've got – throwing you in here as if you were a crook,’ Philmon observed.

Tab said nothing. It was not so long ago that she was just a dung brigader. The only reason she was useful to the council was her powers. If she could subdue the hatchling, well and good. If not, she was disposable anyway.

Better the dragon remain enclosed in a dungeon than out on the city streets causing havoc.

‘Maybe it will bond with you? Maybe it will think you are its mother?’ Philmon whispered.

Amelia thumped her cousin's arm. ‘It's not a chicken, Philmon!’ She turned to Tab. ‘I could stay here with you,’ she offered.

Tab smiled gratefully. ‘That's really nice of you, but there's no use us both getting scorched. Has anyone seen Fontagu, or Tattoo?’

‘Tattoo?’ Philmon asked, frowning.

‘The equen qu …’ Tab began, but then she remembered where she was, with all those sky-traders in the cells around her. ‘You know, the pony from the sky-traders,’ she murmured.

‘I've been down to see them,’ said Philmon. ‘They're cute aren't they? But the ostler told me they were called Trinket and Talisman. I don't know where you got Tattoo from.’

Obviously neither of her friends knew about Tattoo. Tab was dying to tell them so that they could start the search, but the whole dungeon was silent, and she realised that all the other prisoners were eavesdropping.

‘I don't think we can talk here,’ she whispered.

Her friends looked around at the other cells.

‘This is crazy,’ Amelia tutted. ‘We've got to get you out of here.’ She grabbed Philmon's sleeve. ‘Come on. We're going to find the keys.’

Tab leaned against the bars in the corner and watched her friends disappear up the stairs. When they were gone she tried to think back over what they had discussed, and cursed herself for her rashness. Now the sky-traders knew everything she knew – well almost everything.

Suddenly a hand grabbed Tab's and she squealed with fright. Someone in the next cell held her fingers tightly. The light was dim and Tab couldn't see a face.

‘I know something you don't know,’ a sing-song voice taunted.

Tab jerked her hand away. ‘What makes you think I care what you know?’

A face moved into a shaft of light and Tab recognised the sky-trader Chak. Vrod must have been just teasing when he said he was going to make a meal of the sky-trader. Tab didn't really understand troll humour.

Chak's eyes darted about, took in the egg and then settled on Tab's face. ‘Got yourself a little problem there,’ she jeered.

Tab's eyes narrowed. ‘What do you want?’

‘You've discovered our equens. You want some more, yes? You don't have to steal them from us.’

Tab waited, not wanting to reveal any more than she already had.

‘You and your little games committee have some sway with your council,’ Chak continued. ‘Make the council let me go and I will tell you where they come from. You can get as many as you like. They don't put up much of a fight.’

‘You're nothing but filthy slavers. If you tell me, I will go there, but not to steal them, to set them free,’ Tab replied with a scowl.

Chak laughed and withdrew into the dark. ‘Suit yourself.’

‘Where?’ Tab demanded. She tried to rattle the bars between them but they were unyielding.

‘You think I'm going to tell you while I'm still in your stinking dungeon? Pfft!’ came Chak's voice from the gloom.

Tab settled into the corner and waited for her friends. It would gall her to do it, but she probably could talk Verris into setting Chak free – once Tab proved that Tattoo existed in the first place.

Where was the equen queen? Who was this mysterious giant with six axes that Fontagu had talked about? What had happened to Melprin? And Quentaris was on the verge of battle with not one, but two sky-cities! There were so many things to worry about that Tab's head spun. She had to sort it all out, but where to begin?

She closed her eyes. After a moment she heard a tiny
ping
noise.

The egg bounced. Tab crept closer on her hands and knees. The egg sat in the middle of the floor gently smouldering. She stayed still and stared until her knees started to hurt. She had been gawping at it for so long that she began to think she had imagined it moving, when it bounced again. Then there was a
pop
sound. The shell cracked. A piece fell out of the side and a foot emerged from the hole.

Tab scrabbled back against the wall. The clawed toes flexed and relaxed. Smoke drifted out from the hole around the foot and accumulated in a dirty cloud on the ceiling. A trilling
coo
came from inside the egg, or it could have been inside her head. Tab wasn't sure.

The claws curled up again and Tab could hear a
pock, pock, pock
hollow sound, like someone tapping a tin bucket. Her heart raced.

She heard footsteps on the stairs again. ‘Hurry!’ she called. Philmon and Amelia joined her at the bars.

‘We don't have the keys. We couldn't find the jailer,’ Philmon panted. ‘Can you get her out with magic?’ he asked Amelia.

Amelia shook her head, her face miserable. ‘These dungeons were made to hold people with skills. They're enchanted.’

There was a second pop and a clank from the egg as a new piece of shell fell out and hit the floor. Another leg emerged.

Amelia grabbed Tab's hand through the bars. ‘You can do it, Tab. You can talk to it.’

Next came a loud crack and the egg shattered. Broken pieces hit the flagstone with a clink and a clatter. The cell filled with smoke. The three friends and the other prisoners all began to cough.

With every breath, Tab drew the hot smoke into her lungs. She choked on it, but she needed air, and took a deeper breath. She coughed again and again, so much that her sides hurt. She started to panic. She couldn't breathe, but she couldn't stop breathing. Every breath was making her head hurt, inhaling a stench that made her stomach churn, and she still had no air.

‘Get down!’ shouted Philmon.

Tab sprawled to the ground. The air was clearer closer to the floor and she took a deep breath. Even musty dungeon air tasted clean after the dragon smoke.

She heard an excited buzzing, trilling, squeaking coming from the baby dragon and the leathery sound of the dragon's limbs as it thrashed about the cell. She felt a burning pressure in the small of her back as it scrabbled over her.

Then came a thunderous crash. Tab covered her head. A shower of debris and dust fell over her. The shrill warbling sound faded away.

When she looked up the smoke had cleared a little, although her eyes still stung and watered. All that was left were some broken pieces of shell, chunks of bluestone, and a large hole in the wall. The baby dragon was gone.