with it.
"We will take him to a high place and bury him. His spirit will have a good view for all eternity."
"That is a good idea, where do you suggest?"
"Mt. Ulmo. We will take him to Mt. Ulmo. I know a good place there." A high meadow above the hemlock forests, where Baz had met the Purple Green two years before. The same place where he had come upon the green dragoness, High Wings.
The Purple Green understood at once. "Good, let us take him there."
Bazil picked up the sack and found that he had ripped it almost completely in half. It was now useless for their purpose and an ominous foretaste of the difficulties that would lie ahead for them without a dragonboy.
"Oh, by the breath," he groaned. "We have such clumsy hands for dealing with the human world. All these things that are small and neat and fragile."
"It is true," agreed the Purple Green.
They stood there nodding somberly, completely downcast, drowning in gloom.
They were still standing there a minute later when a voice cut through the air behind them.
"Not a good start for your life in the wild without a dragonboy, I'd say."
Their heads swiveled with an almost audible snap.
The dragonboy was sitting up.
"He lives!" exclaimed the Purple Green.
"No thanks to you." Relkin was still sitting there, breathing, obviously alive.
"Thanks be to the gods of old Dragon Home," said the Purple Green.
"What for? Bringing you two fools into the world? You know, I wasn't dead in the first place."
"What?" The Purple Green was thunderstruck.
"A trick? You tricked us?"
"You deserved it."
The Purple Green exhaled an enormous hiss. His eyes flared dangerously. But Bazil reached down and lifted the boy up and put him on his shoulders before hopping around in the clearing, crushing small trees and bushes while hooting in relief and delight.
"Ha hah, ho ho, boy trick these old dragons pretty damn well. Ho ho ho."
The Purple Green nodded, it was incontrovertibly true. Eventually he too saw the funny side of it and emitted several loud noises that those who knew him understood to be laughter, but otherwise sounded more like a horse being strangled.
The only one who was unhappy with the situation was the dragonboy, wet through, sore at wrist and ankle.
"You damned idiots! Do you understand what you've done? Now we're all under threat of a court-martial for desertion. I was in trouble before, but now I'm done for. Now they'll hang me for sure."
"So we cannot go back," said the Purple Green. He seemed unfazed by the prospect.
"Right," grumbled Relkin. "We starve, and then we freeze if we last long enough. For sure we'll starve in the wintertime."
"No," said the Purple Green. "I have studied this problem. I have a plan to solve it."
"Oh, that's wonderful. How are you planning to cook this plan? I'm told that plans are not very filling food."
"What?" The Purple Green frowned in puzzlement, an expression so like the human that even a wet, angry, frightened dragonboy was forced to smile.
"Look, somebody cut this rope, will you?" He held up his wrists.
Bazil rummaged through the pile of Relkin's things and brought out a sturdy dirk with a blade a foot long. It was hard for a dragon to draw from the sheath and difficult to hold in a huge dragon paw. The leverage to cut the rope was too much for the tail. But by dint of much sweat and concentration, he cut the bonds and freed the dragonboy.
Relkin flexed his arms and wrists a number of times, then snatched the dirk from the dragon and cut the rope at his ankles.
"Let me guess, you got Vlok to persuade Swane to tie me up, right?"
"Yes, something like that."
"We persuade Swane ourselves," said the Purple Green.
"And nobody had enough sense to see that you were dooming us to starve to death in the snow."
"Why need we starve? We two dragons will drive the game, you will kill it with your bow. We brought everything you will need."
"And where are we going to live? When the snows come, I will want to be inside someplace
"We will take him to a high place and bury him. His spirit will have a good view for all eternity."
"That is a good idea, where do you suggest?"
"Mt. Ulmo. We will take him to Mt. Ulmo. I know a good place there." A high meadow above the hemlock forests, where Baz had met the Purple Green two years before. The same place where he had come upon the green dragoness, High Wings.
The Purple Green understood at once. "Good, let us take him there."
Bazil picked up the sack and found that he had ripped it almost completely in half. It was now useless for their purpose and an ominous foretaste of the difficulties that would lie ahead for them without a dragonboy.
"Oh, by the breath," he groaned. "We have such clumsy hands for dealing with the human world. All these things that are small and neat and fragile."
"It is true," agreed the Purple Green.
They stood there nodding somberly, completely downcast, drowning in gloom.
They were still standing there a minute later when a voice cut through the air behind them.
"Not a good start for your life in the wild without a dragonboy, I'd say."
Their heads swiveled with an almost audible snap.
The dragonboy was sitting up.
"He lives!" exclaimed the Purple Green.
"No thanks to you." Relkin was still sitting there, breathing, obviously alive.
"Thanks be to the gods of old Dragon Home," said the Purple Green.
"What for? Bringing you two fools into the world? You know, I wasn't dead in the first place."
"What?" The Purple Green was thunderstruck.
"A trick? You tricked us?"
"You deserved it."
The Purple Green exhaled an enormous hiss. His eyes flared dangerously. But Bazil reached down and lifted the boy up and put him on his shoulders before hopping around in the clearing, crushing small trees and bushes while hooting in relief and delight.
"Ha hah, ho ho, boy trick these old dragons pretty damn well. Ho ho ho."
The Purple Green nodded, it was incontrovertibly true. Eventually he too saw the funny side of it and emitted several loud noises that those who knew him understood to be laughter, but otherwise sounded more like a horse being strangled.
The only one who was unhappy with the situation was the dragonboy, wet through, sore at wrist and ankle.
"You damned idiots! Do you understand what you've done? Now we're all under threat of a court-martial for desertion. I was in trouble before, but now I'm done for. Now they'll hang me for sure."
"So we cannot go back," said the Purple Green. He seemed unfazed by the prospect.
"Right," grumbled Relkin. "We starve, and then we freeze if we last long enough. For sure we'll starve in the wintertime."
"No," said the Purple Green. "I have studied this problem. I have a plan to solve it."
"Oh, that's wonderful. How are you planning to cook this plan? I'm told that plans are not very filling food."
"What?" The Purple Green frowned in puzzlement, an expression so like the human that even a wet, angry, frightened dragonboy was forced to smile.
"Look, somebody cut this rope, will you?" He held up his wrists.
Bazil rummaged through the pile of Relkin's things and brought out a sturdy dirk with a blade a foot long. It was hard for a dragon to draw from the sheath and difficult to hold in a huge dragon paw. The leverage to cut the rope was too much for the tail. But by dint of much sweat and concentration, he cut the bonds and freed the dragonboy.
Relkin flexed his arms and wrists a number of times, then snatched the dirk from the dragon and cut the rope at his ankles.
"Let me guess, you got Vlok to persuade Swane to tie me up, right?"
"Yes, something like that."
"We persuade Swane ourselves," said the Purple Green.
"And nobody had enough sense to see that you were dooming us to starve to death in the snow."
"Why need we starve? We two dragons will drive the game, you will kill it with your bow. We brought everything you will need."
"And where are we going to live? When the snows come, I will want to be inside someplace
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