Dragon Airways

Dragon Airways by Brian Rathbone

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Authors: Brian Rathbone
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up Dashiq's neck to get away from Riette. "What would they have done if we warned them?"
    Riette hadn't been expecting that question. "Prepare . . . and send word for help."
    "And I bet they've been preparing since we left. Seems to me a Zjhon warplane had been spotted over Sparrowport and even knocked in a couple buildings if I recall. They know."
    "But—"
    "And we can get the word for help out quicker than they can by going straight to the source."
    "We're going to the front?" Riette asked. Her heart fluttered from fear and anticipation. So often she'd dreamed about going to the front and bringing her father home, but it was a most perilous journey. "You think that's safe?"
    "Ain't no such thing as 'safe' at the moment," Tuck said, and the captain nodded. "We have something that could help win the war. If you can't be safe, might as well fight."
    "What exactly is it that you have?" Riette asked, her voice low and cold.
    "Not sure yet," Tuck admitted without looking at her. "But we know the Zjhon really wanted it."
    The captain held up his hand, calling for silence, and Dashiq took them into the clouds. Aircraft patrolled the area, and all discussion ceased, but that didn't stop Riette's mind from conjuring one scene after another where all of them died. Having days on end to think about it didn't help. When the coastline finally did come into view, Riette wondered if she knew her geography. What she saw resembled the western boundary of the Jaga swamps: Forest's Edge. The town itself was farther north, but they were technically still in the Midlands. Tuck worked on a written message while they flew. He stuffed a rolled parchment inside a red kerchief filled with dried beans.
    Men worked the forests below, and soldiers trained in newly cleared fields. Beyond lay airstrips not much older. Seeing shorter runways than in Sparrowport, Riette was now glad she hadn't taken the diesel plane she'd purchased tickets for. The landings must be terrifying. Even riding atop a dragon, Riette had reservations about coming down amid so many trees.
    A dozen or so small farms occupied the few clearings visible in the north. What had once been the most remote farmsteads in the Midlands now supported a burgeoning new hardwood industry and the military's rear post. Most of the aircraft resting alongside the airstrips wore military colors. Signs of those wounded in the war were present to the keen eye, especially as they drew closer to what was easily identified as a medical facility.
    Cries of "Dragon!" aroused the community. Even those with wounds freshly bandaged came to windows and doorways to see the dragon land. They were disappointed. Rather than land, Dashiq flew low enough that Tuck was able to toss down the message without its exploding on impact. Confusion and dismay followed.
    A gangly man loped onto the field, waving his arms and shouting. Looking extremely disappointed when they soared past, he ran out to retrieve the kerchief of beans. After a brief review, he took the message to where troops practiced.
    Within a short time, forces marched west. Riette sat back as they flew east, knowing at least someone would help protect her homeland. The captain had heard her complaint and offered a compromise. By notifying the rear guard directly, he saved time she would have wasted. It gave her some small comfort.
    Dashiq kept to the edges of the jungle, flying along the shoreline. When they did reach the grasslands west of the swamp, Riette was grateful. The thought of being anywhere near the jungle terrified her. Better to face the Zjhon than to be eaten by any number of creatures both large and small.
    "Last time we were here, the fighting was concentrated in the south," Tuck said under Riette's worried gaze. "We're hoping to come in behind it. Don't worry. This ain't our first go-round. The cap'n knows his business."
     
    * * *
     
    A metal hand on her leg woke Riette from a deep sleep with a start. Tuck holding a finger over his mouth

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