Bones of the Dragon - Margaret Weis [155]
Wulfe shrugged again. He was dressed in robes like the druids wore, too large for his small frame, and when he shrugged, the opening for his neck slid down around his shoulder.
“I told you. There are no men. The druids brought you on board and left. The dragon made the ship sail away, taking me with it. I didn’t want to go,” Wulfe added in aggrieved tones.
“Then who is sailing the ship?” Skylan demanded.
“The dragon!” Wulfe cried. “I keep telling you that! Please ask him to take me home.”
“Why don’t you ask him?” said Skylan, annoyed. He thought the boy was making all this up.
“I don’t think the dragon likes me,” Wulfe said sulkily. “I asked him if I could come on board, and he didn’t say I couldn’t. But now he glares at me whenever I go up on deck.”
“You’re telling me you can see the dragon, speak to him?” Skylan frowned in disbelief.
Wulfe’s eyes widened in fright, and he edged back toward the ladder. “I didn’t know that was wrong! Are you going to kill me?”
“No, of course not,” Skylan said. “It’s not wrong, exactly. It’s just . . . odd. The only person who can speak to the dragon is a Bone Priestess. And even she cannot see the dragon until he answers the summons.”
Skylan still thought the boy was pretending, playing make-believe.
“Tell me, Wulfe, what does the dragon look like?”
“He looks like a dragon,” said Wulfe.
“Describe him,” said Skylan, thinking he would hear some outlandish tale.
“He has blue scales, and his mane is the color of sea foam and his crest is like the moon glade on the water I saw the other night. And his eyes are red and horrid.”
Skylan was astonished. Wulfe had accurately described the Dragon Kahg in his water form, down to the last scale. Here was a mystery.
The boy had to be telling the truth, incredible as it seemed. The Dragon Kahg had the power to sail the ship on his own if he chose. Skylan remembered watching the ship sail off with Horg’s corpse, and he shuddered. Perhaps the Dragon Kahg was carrying Skylan to his grave! Planning to dump his body where neither man nor gods could find it.
“Do you hurt somewhere?” Wulfe crept down another rung.
Skylan shook his head. Weak in mind and body, he turned his head into the pillow to hide his grief.
He heard bare feet patter down the rungs of the ladder and felt a hand timidly touch his shoulder. Skylan lifted his head, and Wulfe sprang back.
“You should drink.” The boy held the horn at arm’s length.
Skylan took the drinking horn and gulped the water thirstily and handed it back. He lay quiet a moment, wondering if he had the strength to rise. He didn’t have a choice. He had to find out what was going on.
“I need to go up on deck.”
Wulfe clutched the empty drinking horn to his chest. “Will you ask the dragon to take me home?”
Skylan gave a bleak smile. “I must first ask the dragon where he is taking me. You said the druids brought me on board. They must have brought you, as well. Why did they leave you here?”
Wulfe flushed and shook his head. “The elder didn’t know I was on the ship. I sneaked on. I know it was wrong, but I couldn’t help it. The dragonship was the most wonderful thing I’d ever seen. Now I hate it,” he added sullenly.
“Can you help me up the ladder to the deck?”
Wulfe eyed him suspiciously. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to try to find out where we are—”
“I can tell you that. We’re on the ocean.”
“If I can see landmarks and the position of the sun, I’ll know where we are on the ocean,” said Skylan.
Wulfe seemed to think this over and decide it made sense. He gingerly slid his arm beneath Skylan’s shoulder. The boy was surprisingly strong. He helped Skylan stand.
Everything tilted and wobbled. Skylan shut his eyes and clung to Wulfe and waited for the dizziness to pass.
“Where are my clothes?” Skylan asked.
The boy gestured to a corner where he’d dumped the bloodstained trousers and shirt and boots in a heap.
“And my sword?”
Wulfe let Skylan loose and darted off into a corner. Bereft of his support, Skylan