Flight of the Aguiva

By Solitaire Parke

Tanis - his Emerald Dragon, Demios - and the Dragon Riders have defeated the Demons of the Dark Lord for now. But Mt. Drago is still in danger without the remaining two crystal keys.

Now the inhabitants of the mountain have a new threat. One of the Aguiva dragons has escaped, and could jeopardize the harmony of their existence if discovered by the human world outside. Meanwhile, Tanis manages to impress with Bubo, an Aguiva Dragon that gives him more than he ever dreamed of, or at times can handle.

In the heart of Australia’s outback, a new home at Mt. Arcadia is being established by The Ariella, Queen of the Dragons. It will house her new Dragons, the Amphiteres. Times are uncertain as Tanis and the Dragon Riders brave the dangers of a newly established home, discover new worlds that could change the course of their lives, and end the terrible battle that looms closer every day.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Solitaire Parke
• Release date: May 28, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311860392

Solitaire Parke

Solitaire Parke is an author of Science Fiction/Urban Fantasy, Poetry and Larger World books. He is a lover of dragons, the poetry of Edgar Allan Poe, and has a large collection of science fiction books and movies. After becoming an award winning photographer and earning a degree in music theory, he worked in graphic and web design, but he always returns to writing.When he is not writing, you can find him reading, watching a sci-fi television show or movie, or researching a new “techno gadget” on the internet. He now resides in Arizona with his family and two very spoiled dogs!

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FLIGHT OF THE AGUIVA

Solitaire Parke

FLIGHT OF THE AGUIVA

Solitaire Parke

Copyright © 2022 Solitaire Parke

All rights reserved

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the permission of the author.

DEDICATION

This book is dedicated to those who have a dragon rider within them and live every day knowing that he or she may come out. You know who you are!

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

I would like to thank Jacob Overton, for his contribution of the character, Helup Ironfold, and Joe Russomanno for his character, Sergei Rasputin Cosmonov. These two gentlemen were the winners of The Emerald Dragon character contest. Their characters continue to live on.

A special thank you goes to Brandiwine Parke and Kimberly Gippert for all the editing work and help that they provided on this book. It would not have been possible without them.

INTRODUCTION

A little over a year ago a young female Emerald dragon called out to me and urged yours truly, Tanis Nickolai Theatra, to go to Mt. Drago. That's the mountain of the dragons, for the uninitiated. Needless to say, she changed my life in more ways than I am willing to admit . . . well, so far.

Her name is Demios Reptillus Stagg, and she is now a tad over four years old. She has matured since I first bonded /impressed with her and gotten dramatically larger during that time. Flying as her rider, helper, and confidante has proven eye opening to say the least, but as a completely different species, I was surprised how quickly she became my best friend.

In our previous adventure we procured a crystal key, saved Mt. Drago, and kept the world from being overrun by demons from the Provinces of Hell. Not bad, Huh? Of course, I also had dinner at a local burger joint with my significant other too. After so many missions and a topsy-turvy lifestyle, sometimes it's the little things that make a difference. The undisputed leader of Mt. Drago is a woman we call Queen Mother, aka The Ariella, and also my significant other; her duties at the mountain kind of add a whirlwind effect to the existence I call my life. On the upside there's never a dull moment, and on the downside there's never a dull moment.

Mt. Drago is tucked away in the middle of nowhere, or Arizona as the citizens call it, but I call it home. From the time I got to the mountain until this very minute; my life has been a constant set of misadventures, near calamities, and ultimately life altering changes that I wouldn't have missed for love or money. Understand that I have an enormous amount of the former, and a sad lack of the latter.

I have seen a change in the Grottos, the Gold, Green, and Brown in particular. The riders in the Gold Grotto became arrogant and the other two had sunk into the loss of their superiority. The Section Leader for the Gold Grotto lost his life in a bid for political upheaval, where his plan for assassinating Queen Mother became his own end instead. The Green and Brown Grottos respectively had been relegated to nannies and babysitters for the nurseries. All of that changed shortly after I came to the mountain. I'm not saying I changed it now mind you, but I think Demios became the catalyst due to her orphan like beginnings.

You see, Demi (That's what I call Demios), wasn't born in either of the nurseries. Her egg was ferreted away and allowed to hatch elsewhere in Mt. Drago. When she was old enough, she wandered around the mountain basically being ignored by all but a few. Those few fed her and gave the necessities that every young dragon needs. To make sure that she found these goodies, they put them in shiny garbage cans. The normal garbage cans were all made of flat, grey colored plastic and designed to hold all forms of trash in large amounts. The lids sealed into place to keep the smell down, and everyone knew to stay away from them. The shiny ones, on the other hand were made out of high gloss metal, had virtually no seal, and stood out like sore thumbs. These were summarily dubbed as Holders of Things and always had fun stuff inside. She was sure to find beef, a type of sesame candy, and Frisbees.

Her life continued like this for about three years until she called me. I'm to understand that any dragon, once they have secured their rider, is entitled to an area within the appropriate Grotto. So, armed with me, she could finally come out of the closet, so to speak. You see, all the Greens and Browns are wingless dragons, and as such didn't want Demi; a Winged Green, actually an Emerald which is what we call her kind now. Further, they sure didn't want her or me for that matter, living in their Grottos. Months later a new Grotto was built, and we moved in; problem solved.

The Crystal Key I mentioned earlier is one of three, and we're looking for the other two. Yeah, you heard me, the other two. The bad guys are looking for them as well, and if the other crystals work like the first one, well . . . the barrier keeping the two sides apart will come crashing down and all hell will break loose. I don't say that lightly or figuratively, it's just the way things are. I'm not sure if that’s good or bad, but all of us here at Drago have to live with that concept hanging over our heads every day.

When we got back from our last run across the Provinces, there was a huge, rather impromptu party regaling our success, and that's when Queen Mother was informed that one of the Aguiva Dragons had gone AWOL into the world away from Mt. Drago. Needless to say, a dragon outside of the mountain constitutes a monumental boo-boo in the total scheme of things. Everyone knows what happens if the outside world spots a dragon on the loose. They shoot first and ask questions later. Then they're going to wonder where it came from, which leads to prying eyes and eventually the complete loss of security. Trust me; this world is not ready for Mt. Drago.

Chapter 1

One moment Queen Mother was tapping her foot to the beat of the music, and then with a single comment . . . well her foot was still tapping, just not in the same manner. Everything changed. One of the dragon riders couldn't find her dragon, and admittedly the mountain was huge, but not so big that anyone could get lost. The conflicted rider, Annalise, was one of the elite Aguiva flyers that lived in the Down Below. Presently, we were standing in the main area of Mt. Drago; we call it Commons, and the Down Below was several miles to the northeast and several hundred feet beneath us. Connected by a series of corridors, these mighty caverns were only two of the mammoth underground structures that were housed in this mountain.

Hundreds of dragons live within these walls and all of them have the unique ability we know as communal communications. In short, what this means is a constant knowing of the whereabouts of anything throughout the subterranean community. Well, apparently with the one exception of the dragon named Bullba. All the dragon riders enjoy the talent of seeing through their dragon's eyes when they need to, and at the moment, Annalise could clearly see buildings through the eyes of her Aguiva, Bullba. This, of course, was not possible as there are no buildings within the confines of Mt. Drago, which meant that Bullba was no longer inside the mountain.

There are only two known methods for leaving the mountain and both are guarded . . . or they're supposed to be guarded by either the Drago Clan or the Chosen. I can't see how Bullba could have made it past the two versions of Security; I mean it's pretty hard to sneak around when you're the size of a dragon, even a smaller one like the Aguiva in question.

The South Entrance is the preferred method for entry and exit as it is at ground level, but the Northern Terrace is a great choice for a dragon. It is located at the summit of this mountain, making it fairly easy for a dragon to simply walk off the ledge, gain speed, and fly away. Not that they're supposed to.

Technically, the Drago Clan is the one responsible for mountain security. They've been the dragon stewards for as long as anyone can remember. They held the same job prior to Mt. Drago when the dragons lived in Iceland at Mt. Scartaris, and only just recently allowed the Chosen to control Mt. Femmes in France. The Chosen, a nice way of saying vampires, are also some of the newcomers, and in their defense have worked out much better than anyone suspected. They consume bovine blood as their primary diet, but also partake of human blood when it's donated. The donations amount to about a pint, and I'm told it's erotic . . . oh, and painless. Not my cup of tea, although I've had several invitations from Chosen girls at what they call Cocktail parties. I call them orgies with bloodletting.

Anyway, Analise has a stricken look on her face and Queen Mother appears to have swallowed an atomic bomb. I would not want to be in the rider’s shoes at this juncture, but thankfully my dragon, Demi, is old enough to know not to go gallivanting outside of the mountain. To be honest, I'm surprised this scenario hasn't already happened before.

While I stood there, the communal communication thing I mentioned earlier was swiftly taking place. Only seconds had elapsed, but the atmosphere was changing around me like an approaching storm. I heard wings from somewhere over my head and then Basiliskos and Invectum were landing next to Queen Mother. It had the same feel as two aircraft carriers suddenly coming into an enclosed airport. The ground shook with their impact and they morphed into human form as they turned to face us.

Now admittedly, not all dragons can morph into human form but these two can, and they perform this little minor miracle with a degree of alacrity and speed which will take your breath away. These dragons constitute local royalty, and as Kings, not too many people disagree with them regardless of the subject matter. Born from the same egg makes them unique, as if dragons needed anything to make them more dramatic than they already are, but in their case the birth of twins was prophesied centuries ago. One black and the other one white. Needless to say, their hatching was a pretty big deal, and locked them into the born leaders that they became.

At the moment, they were spearheading the events that would hopefully bring back the small, wayward, dragon that was apparently experiencing a fly about over a local city.

The mountain received plenty of volunteers to go and fetch Bullba, but most of them couldn't leave either. Queen Mother, quite by accident, had developed a rather large amount of diversity over the last year. Refugees from several species had moved in and become integral to the working of this enclosed society, but not being human has some obvious setbacks. You can't show up in polite company without getting shot on sight. Most people would instantly fear a Hellhound, Vampire, Demon or an Alien. As a result, only humans could be selected to go and find Analise's dragon. The other species would compound the already existing problem and it was bad enough the way it stood.

In the end, two teams were dispatched from the South Entrance, each heading in a different direction. The teams consisted of four people, all of them human, (I assume) and all looking consistently urban for this area, including me. When we got to the corridor that connected the outside cave, I could see daylight streaming in from the small aperture that constituted our front door. It always looked small to me, but in truth, it would allow for several decent sized automobiles or a dragon to pass in and out.

From the outside, the South Entrance looks very much like an unassuming little cave that goes exactly nowhere. The opening is just large enough to allow a large dragon inside. Once inside the corridor the walls widen considerably, allowing more than just vehicles to and from Commons. Today two of these vehicles have been moved from the interior and parked ten yards out in front, waiting for the teams to emerge. The group Queen Mother assigned me to have been slated to drive into Bettonwood and pick up a trailer housed at her Import/Export Company. Once Bullba has been found, the trailer will be his ride home.

The corridor that connects the interior of Mt. Drago to the outside world is about one hundred yards long and has torches along the walls every thirty feet or so. A dim light emanates from the walls, which is being caused by a type of phosphorus found in most of the local caves. Pretty damned handy if you ask me. The end result is a constant low light that, once you're used to it, seems more than enough for everyday life. I never would have believed it, but there you go. The floor is almost glass smooth caused by years of dragon's fire to keep it clean.

Most everyone on the teams is dressed like me: Reeboks, jeans and casual shirt - green in my case. Go figure. It's that whole emerald thing. So, we collectively move down the corridor, not exactly morose, but the attitude is solemn. None of us, including Analise, knows where Bullba has gone, but we all know the danger he's in so there's not much talking. The corridor may only be around a hundred yards, but today it feels much longer. I usually get an uplifted feeling as I progress toward the South Entrance, but this time it has the weight of oppression that refuses to let up.

The trip to the exit was uneventful if not somber, and the daylight streaming in caused spectrals on the floor like a false promise of what was to come. Two of the security guards were already standing a few yards out and they nodded to us as we passed. The trucks were waiting, gassed up and running, our link to the outside world.

Each of us has a two-way radio in case the non-riders get split up from the others. Basiliskos and Invectum can communicate with those of us that ride dragons, but the rest of the search crew depend entirely on us telling them what's said, or the radios. I think everyone can hear the dragon's mental communication inside the mountain, but distance, especially outside of Drago, makes a difference.

Bullba hasn't been gone very long, but with every passing minute the number of miles is piling up drastically. Aguivas can comfortably fly at seventy-five to eighty miles an hour, and that would be considered a leisurely pace. We're hoping he doesn't think he's in a hurry; otherwise, those figures will be grossly inaccurate. Bullba, like all Aguivas, has a maximum ceiling of three thousand feet, and sadly, that makes him visible from the ground at all times unless he flies through low lying cloud banks. This is Arizona and we're known for beautiful, cloudless, blue skies.What we have, I hope, is pure dumb luck because there's not a cloud in the sky. And there's no reason for us to think he'll fly at his ceiling altitude all of the time or even try to hide. That would be naive. Just more wishful thinking.

Queen Mother is staying behind and will play what she calls mental relay. What this amounts to is whatever Bullba sees, Analise transfers to Basiliskos, who then forwards it along to The Ariella, who then attempts to correlate the location based on what she knows about the surrounding area. Then she either contacts us on the two-way radio or tells Basiliskos to relay the information back to Analise. Only then will we have an actual direction in which to drive. All of this is because one dragon wanted a fly about. So far what we have is one big goose egg, as Bullba has not looked at a single recognizable thing since he saw the first buildings. Nondescript buildings at that. Mountains in the distance, from two different directions have been the extent of his musings since. Which has been about as helpful as tits on a boar hog.

If you've ever been to the Phoenix area, then you already know there are small mountains in every direction, pretty much no matter where you are. Some of these would actually be recognizable, but infinitely bad for us because that would mean Bullba had flown all the way to civilization. Depending on which way his curiosity guided him will ultimately dictate whether we have a problem or a disaster.

Queen Mother followed the teams as far as the entrance itself and watched us, shielding her eyes against the morning sun as we got into the trucks.

Bullba's rider constitutes one of the exceptions to the human rule, and although she looks human enough . . . she isn't. Not even close. Analise was born on the Provinces, and that having been said, you need to know that not all people within the confines of Hell are Demons or even demonic. Prior to the influx of demons to the Provinces, a race of humanoid creatures were already there. Their race is called Denizens, and albeit they have all the same appendages and qualities that make one human, they have other oddities that make them remarkably different. By averages they are larger than the human folk, but not significantly enough to really be noticed. Their women, for instance, are around six feet tall with a larger frame. We have plenty of women that are similar, but by average the human woman is generally smaller. Analise is about five feet nine inches and weighs somewhere around one hundred and seventy pounds. Somehow this brown eyed beauty comes across as thin; I think it's the enlarged frame that gives her that appearance. Her bones and muscles are half again denser than her human counterparts, which gives her and the rest of the species stronger abilities and resistance to being hurt. Needless to say, they are a powerful species and not to be taken lightly.

Sean, the leader of the Dragos, pointed to the driver's side of the truck and then gestured to himself, a look of determination written over his countenance. I personally wouldn't argue with him, I mean it was his truck after all. Princess Rhylana grabbed the passenger side front seat and I sat in the back seat with Analise. Princess Rhylana was the second exception to the human rule. Like Analise, she also came from the Provinces and is from the same species. Denizens, like humans come in all flavors, and in the case of the little Princess, she really is quite small. This diminutive, blue-eyed brunette stands at five feet tall and weighs all of ninety pounds. Her hair falls just beyond her shoulders and like today is generally pulled starkly back in a ponytail. She carries herself like she's six feet tall and tends to order people around like I'm sure she did back home. She's fiery but fair and has a heart the size of Texas. Presently, she was fumbling with the seat belt and wore a very worried look on her face. She smiled at me, and I attempted to appear confident. Neither one of us accomplished our goal, but thankfully the moment passed quickly.

Analise came to the mountain with a large contingency of Class Eight demons, disguised as one of them; no mean feat, and only once she was here, came out of the closet, so to speak. These demons had been trained to ride Aguiva dragons, and ultimately flew them off the Provinces as their means of escape. Analise, having previously infiltrated one of their units, flew away with them when they left. This particular group of demons had been genetically altered for size reduction, so she fit right in. Bullba, as a result of not being impressed with a true demon, was now acting in a way totally unlike his fellow dragons. I mean the proof is in the pudding, right?

I pulled my radio off my belt and checked it again to make sure the battery was charged and looked up to see her watching me. She had her radio lying on her legs and was staring at it like it was alive.

I never learned how to turn these on, and I don't know how to make it work if I did. Help?

I didn't want to, but the chuckle just popped right out of me. Grabbing mine, I leaned over to where she could see it and tried to make it sound easy.

The symbol on the front. Yeah, the one shaped like a circle with a line part way through it. Just press it and the face lights up. For now, it's easier to assure you that it's been set up to match the others, and so long as you're not more than one hundred miles away from one of the other radios, you're good to go. The large button along the side needs to be depressed when you speak, and the others will hear you simultaneously. The number on the back designates which transceiver you're using in case you get knocked out or can't speak. See, yours says the number one; mine is number three. The corresponding number shows up on the other radios when you press the button. Piece of cake. To talk to an individual, simply press the transceiver number to the radio you wish to contact instead of the button on the side.

Analise was examining her radio as I spoke, and she glanced up and gave me a tentative nod.

You command so much technology. Since our arrival it has been very hard . . . Hard for me anyway. I cannot speak for the others. Thank you for your help.

I smiled at her and waved my hand, dismissing the importance of my supposed help.

Escalades are big vehicles. Analise really isn't all that large, but for whatever reason, she filled up her side of the truck. Her knees were jammed up into the front seat, making her posture seem a bit uncomfortable.

She wore her sandy brown hair short, and it looked like it had recently been cut, indicating a trend. That's only noteworthy because the rest of the Pieces of Eight, (the name they had given themselves after their arrival) had long hair for a man. Or demon depending on how you looked at them. Technically that's what they were, although recently all the demons in the mountains had begun referring to themselves as Risen. Apropos if you think about. They are all escapees and refugees from the Provinces of Hell. Living proof that even the worst of creatures can change.

It's interesting to watch people do things for the first time. Case in point: Analise previously trying to figure out how to get into a vehicle. We take things like that for granted, but she actually paused and observed Sean climb in before she even attempted her own entry. She's personally strong enough to rip one of the doors off but doesn't know how to use the exterior handle. Analise is smart though and learns everything with lightning speed. Show her once and she'll have it forever. I thought all of this as I got out and walked around the vehicle to close her door. One more thing no one told her to do. I smiled . . . she giggled, and Sean let off the parking brake. Analise white knuckled as the truck lurched forward. This was going to be a long day. I climbed back in.

Thomas Arden, the Blue Grotto Section Leader, was driving the second vehicle and had been accompanied by Elfred from the Red Grotto, Ariel from the Gold Grotto, and Gypsy from the Harlequin Grotto.

The mountain was rather divided into areas, and in some cases referred to as caverns, which for an underground system of caves seemed pretty normal. That having been said, some of them had names to designate something a bit more poignant. Like Commons, or the Down Below. Others, scattered about the mountain housed the different and various subspecies of dragons which made up the two major kinds of reptiles populating Mt. Drago - the Wyverns and the Aguiva. In those instances, they were called Grottos, or Nurseries in the case of the Green and Brown Grottos.

I don't know who owned the second Escalade, but it was a carbon copy of the first. Both vehicles moved out and we began our rather arduous drive to the interstate freeway some fifty miles away. The trucks would stay together until we reached pavement, where we would head north, and the other truck would head south. Any and all of the neighboring towns could be accessed from the freeway from those two directions. (Give or take.)

At the fifteen-mile mark we were to test the radios, first from truck to truck and then to the mountain.

Okay, I'm sure most people have taken trips with children, right? The sojourns are marred with constant pit stops for cokes, candy, popcorn, and bathroom breaks. Especially bathroom breaks. If you have more than one child, then games are employed, and it doesn't take any time to reduce the atmosphere to back seat war tactics. The conversations escalate to deafening proportions, studded with lines like . . . He touched me! My favorite one though will always be . . . Are we there yet?

Princess Rhylana had never been outside in the Smaller World, so she had no idea about distances between things. We hadn't even gotten to the highway when she uttered those immortal words.

Are we there yet?

Sean actually made a honking noise with his nose and then let out a peal of laughter that was more of an explosion than a human sound. The look on Rhylana's face should go down in history as the accepted look, What'd I say and how come you're laughing?

Analise was trying to be confident, but you could tell she was worried sick about Bullba's absence. She was well aware of the concept of guns and the number of people who owned them. All of us knew it would only take one idiot with a high-powered rifle to end the innocent little dragon’s life. Sadly, Bullba did not know, let alone understand the concept of trust, or in this case, the lack of it where people were concerned.

By this time, it was early afternoon and the sun was beginning to bake the desert. It was seventy-five degrees in the truck; we knew this because Sean announced it to us as a means by which to brag on his new SUV. He said it was climate controlled, but I don't think it had too much of an effect on either Analise or Rhylana. I grinned at his antics, but Sean appeared disappointed with their lack of response.

In due time, we got to the Interstate. As we turned north, I saw the other vehicle turn the opposite direction. Elfred's radio activated, and he told us Mak sur to hent quackly. I had to run his statement over in my head several times before it finally deciphered itself into English because of his thick Scottish brogue. Make sure to hunt quickly. Sean chuckled.

Have you noticed that even his dragon has begun to sound like that? Damn hard to understand either one of them.

Aye, that I have. I gave my best (or possibly my worst) Scottish accent. "That's what the world needs, a Red Dragon the size of a Battleship, with a Scottish accent."

Analise made a whimpering noise, and for the first time I noticed she was crying. Elfred's dragon, Big Red, was safe back at the mountain, while hers was lost in the wilderness. It was written all over her face.

It's been said that when a dragon dies, his or her rider pines away until they die too. I personally had no wish to prove that theory, but it did bring to the forefront how I might feel if this scenario were to play out with my dragon. A lump the size of Detroit formed in my throat, and I felt my eyes suddenly developing a mist over them. Big bad warriors don't cry. Okay I'm neither big nor bad, but the idea of losing Demi was more than my heart could handle. Just one more reason we had to find Bullba, and we had to do it fast.

Princess Rhylana decided she wanted to ride in the back seat, so using the asses and elbows method of switching places, we managed to swap locales. The two ladies now in the back seat together scrunched close beside each other and mumbled back and forth. As much as I found this to be one step short of weird, it did seem to have a desirable effect on them both, and the tension that Analise was so obviously feeling, faded considerably within minutes. I for one was very grateful for the phenomenon.

In less than an hour we would get to the Bettonwood turnoff, and from there it was only a few minutes to the outskirts of town. Once there, we would go straight to Queen Mother's Import/Export Company where she stores pretty much everything that doesn't immediately go to the mountain. In this case, it was the trailer that would hopefully transport our wayward dragon home.

Everything that the mountain needs and uses is processed through this location. All of the food we cannot grow, clothing we cannot make, and most of all . . . cattle - lots and lots of cattle. As you may have guessed, cows don't fair very well cooped up in a cave, and with the dietary needs of dragons, well they don't last very long, which ultimately is a good thing. The downside is that a constant stream of cattle is needed, and no one must ever see the transfer from the purchase point to the mountain. The Import/Export Company acts in this capacity. On the surface it looks and acts like its name implies, and sells goods manufactured at the mountain, while importing things from around the world. Some of the goods are of course turned around and sold to people and companies throughout the United States. Others, like the cattle, are driven into the building, unloaded, and ushered through a stable wormhole that leads to . . . you guessed it, Mt. Drago. All very neat and tidy. If you happen to be standing in the right place at the right time, you will see the trucks pull in, and then an hour or so later you can watch the trucks leave, without having seen anything in between. No body, no crime, right? The trucks are owned by Queen Mother and operated by her men. They’re on the road twenty-four seven and pick up and drop off cattle at regular intervals to keep the dragons in food. The whole back of the building is soundproofed, and consequently the employees in the front of the business, locals hired for their sales abilities, have absolutely no clue what goes on behind the wall. Pretty slick.

It doesn't really stop there though, as you probably surmised. Every other food stuff you can think of is treated primarily the same way, and eventually makes its way to the crews standing by at Mt. Drago.

Glancing over to the back seat, I noticed Princess Rhylana had unbuckled and turned sideways on the passenger side, with her legs crossed Indian style and was tinkering with her radio. Her tiny frame actually looked lost on the seat, and she obviously had oodles of room as she spread what looked like the manufacturer’s handbook open. She was in progress explaining to Analise how the intricacies of the unit operated. I guess my explanation wasn't enough for them, or maybe it was just Rhylana's way of keeping Analise from nervous-ing all over herself. Also impressive, was Rhylana's understanding of English and the written word. Seems that her education goes a bit further than I originally thought, wealth or not.

Both women were aggressive but sweet natured until angered, and I for one don't mind the idea of having them at my back during an altercation.

The radios buzzed every fifteen minutes, as if someone was using their watch, and the timbre of Queen Mother's voice echoed how tense she was with each and every transmission.

The other truck had managed roughly the same number of miles as us and told Sean about their intention to leave the highway. So far neither truck had spotted anything, not that we expected to this early in the hunt.

As planned, we turned off on the Bettonwood exit ramp and headed west. Houses could be seen now, one here and one there, sparse, and considerably back from the road. The countryside had begun to change from desert to light trees and scrub. The farther you head north, the more trees and grass you find until it actually becomes forestry and high elevations. The smell of pine filtered through the truck's vent system, and I don't know about the others, but it somehow raised my spirits. Unlike the highway we just left, the road leading toward Bettonwood had only one lane coming and one going. The epitome of two-lane blacktop. I think the road had been neglected for an extended period of time, as the smooth ride we had experienced up to the turn off just simply stopped, and the truck wasn't capable of smoothing out the continuous ruts and bumps.

My radio buzzed, and I clicked the switch.

This is Tanis. Over.

Queen Mother's voice came through loud and clear.

I called ahead and let the Plant Manager know of your pending arrival. Make sure you enter through the back, and radio me when you're ready to leave.

Sean nodded when I looked over at him; it was very quiet in the back seat.

Yes, Queen Mother. Tanis out.

We could just see the outskirts of Bettonwood in the distance. Only minutes left until our arrival, but more importantly a chance to stretch my legs and a visit to a powder room for the ladies.

I found it difficult to believe that no one had seen Bullba, and Analise told us an hour ago that his eyes were closed. That means the little guy was calm enough, and tired enough to lay down someplace for a nap. Sure wish I knew what was going in that Aguiva mind. He had to have flown out into the open desert, found a cave, and taken refuge. It's the only way he could have been gone this long without being seen. Being seen means the authorities, and that leads to nothing good. But so far none of the above had happened, which led me to the conclusion of his (I hope) isolation.

The problem with this is fairly obvious in that there's a lot of desert out here, and from Mt. Drago it's pretty much in every direction. Until Bullba gets hungry and wakes up, we don't really have a direction to proceed. Analise admitted to Queen Mother that she had told her dragon to fly home the minute she realized he was gone, and his answer was just silence. It's possible that at the distance Bullba had achieved, even early in his flight, was too great for him to hear his rider. It's also equally as possible for him to have ignored her.

All the Aguiva Dragons were originally born and raised on the Provinces. That having been said, I know they were not mistreated by their riders, but had to endure some real hardships before they came to Mt. Drago. Such as zero freedom; who's to say all that pent up energy didn't need to go anywhere? I know Queen Mother also feels the same way about this because she's increased security at the exits by a factor of five. That means there are now ten guards on both exits leading out of the mountain. At a casual glance, our home is beginning to look like a prison; and although I know there's no basis for that belief . . . you know what they say, right? If it looks like a duck, sounds like a duck and hangs around with ducks, then it's probably a duck. Of course, I don't know who they are, but none the less whoever they are . . . that's what they say. How do we know the Aguivas are happy with their situation, and if they're not, then what?

I didn't see an overabundance of police cars or people congregating anywhere with binoculars as we pulled onto the main street, so I had to believe our wayward dragon hadn't flown over Bettonwood just yet. Damn, that would be awkward.

A few streets in, we turned onto a side road, now only two blocks away. Seconds later, Sean fit his Escalade into an alley that intersected with the docks of Queen Mother's Import/Export Company. We all exited the vehicle and made our way to the rear entrance of the building.

The security required at the back door of the Import/Export Company would make Fort Knox look like a padlock. I let Sean jump through all the digital hoops needed to walk in, and I even attempted to look patient while he performed those little miracles. Don't get me wrong, I understand the need for high level security, if for no other reason than the existence of a stable wormhole right there in the building. Imagine if that got stolen.

Once the last bit of coding was applied, a hissing noise erupted around the seam of the door, and it pushed its way in with a plume of cold vapor. Very Sci-Fi.

Stepping inside, we saw a man standing, waiting for us as if he does this kind of thing every day. Sporting a big smile, ear to ear and progressing up to his eyes, he clapped his hands like he was the happiest guy in the world.

Welcome each and every one of you!

The man's enthusiasm was almost contagious; notice I said almost. I'm not saying he wasn't a nice guy, but this person was a Queen Mother acolyte. Just a heartbeat off from zealot and two heartbeats away from nuttier than a fruitcake. Everything said