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Authors: Simon R. Green
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reached Base Thirteen. Are you here?”
He waited, looking about him, but there was no response. And then he felt as much as heard something approaching, and he looked up. The others looked up too, following his startled gaze. And there, all across the sky, the Ashrai came falling out of the clouds and into the diffused light. They flew unhurriedly through the still air—hundreds of them, their vast membranous wings barely flapping. They were huge, monstrous, grotesque creatures bulging with muscles under rainbow skins, their broad faces composed of harsh bony planes and angles, fiery golden eyes, and a wide mouth full of long needle teeth. Their movements were eerily graceful as they swept across the sky.
Jesamine stared up at them, enchanted. “Oh, Lewis, it is Owen’s dragons! Look at them! They’re not what I thought they’d be—they’re not beautiful—but oh, God, they’re magnificent!”
“They’re scary buggers, is what they are,” said Brett, from behind Rose. “Look at the size of them! Damn, one of those things could make a real mess of a man, if it put its mind to it. I’d back one of them against a Grendel. A dozen Grendels. And give odds.”
“I killed a Grendel in the Arena,” said Rose, one hand resting on the sword at her hip.
“I know,” said Brett. “It’s all you ever talk about, and I do wish you wouldn’t. Please don’t start anything. Or if you must, give me plenty of advance warning so I can get a good running start.”
“I wonder what they’d taste like,” said Saturday, and Brett glared at him.
“Don’t encourage her. You’re almost as bad as she is. Am I the only one here who’s noticed they outnumber us by a hundred to one? And they are big! Seriously big! They’ve probably crapped more dangerous things than us! I can feel one of my heads coming on.” He watched the Ashrai circling slowly overhead. “How does anything that big and that heavy stay in the air anyway? I don’t care what kind of wingspan they’ve got, nothing that massive belongs in midair, particularly when I’m standing underneath it.”
“Calm down, Brett,” said Lewis. “You’re babbling. The Ashrai fly because their esp holds them up. Maybe they can fly unprotected through space after all . . . These are clearly powerful creatures.”
“The song’s back,” said Jesamine, her neck arched almost painfully back as she gazed adoringly into the sky. “It’s so much stronger here. It’s not just the trees. It’s them. The Ashrai and the forest, singing together, bound together. Can’t you hear it?”
None of them said anything, because it seemed to all of them that they could hear something. Jesamine opened her mouth and sang a delicate lilting song, older than the Golden Age, older than the age of heroes, from the days of the First Empire, when Humanity originally went out into the stars. The words were lost, but the melody remained, an ancient haunting evocation of days long gone, when to be human was to be part of a great adventure. The words were lost, but not the meaning. In their bones, and in their souls, Humanity remembered.
Jesamine sang, and the Ashrai sang with her. Their great voices filled the air; alien harmonies that joined with Jesamine’s song, augmenting it without drowning it. The song filled the clearing—a celebration of life, and the glory of existence, and the driving need to find a meaning for it all. Jesamine sang, her face full of rapture, and the Ashrai sang with her. Lewis stared at his love, stunned by the power in her voice. He felt as though he was in the presence of something sacred. Jesamine finally broke off, and the Ashrai stopped singing too. Jesamine slowly lowered her head, sweat dripping off her face, and she put out a shaking hand to Lewis. He took her in his arms, making his strength her own, and she clung to him.
“Oh, Lewis,” she said finally, her face turned into his chest. “I think now I finally understand how other people feel
He waited, looking about him, but there was no response. And then he felt as much as heard something approaching, and he looked up. The others looked up too, following his startled gaze. And there, all across the sky, the Ashrai came falling out of the clouds and into the diffused light. They flew unhurriedly through the still air—hundreds of them, their vast membranous wings barely flapping. They were huge, monstrous, grotesque creatures bulging with muscles under rainbow skins, their broad faces composed of harsh bony planes and angles, fiery golden eyes, and a wide mouth full of long needle teeth. Their movements were eerily graceful as they swept across the sky.
Jesamine stared up at them, enchanted. “Oh, Lewis, it is Owen’s dragons! Look at them! They’re not what I thought they’d be—they’re not beautiful—but oh, God, they’re magnificent!”
“They’re scary buggers, is what they are,” said Brett, from behind Rose. “Look at the size of them! Damn, one of those things could make a real mess of a man, if it put its mind to it. I’d back one of them against a Grendel. A dozen Grendels. And give odds.”
“I killed a Grendel in the Arena,” said Rose, one hand resting on the sword at her hip.
“I know,” said Brett. “It’s all you ever talk about, and I do wish you wouldn’t. Please don’t start anything. Or if you must, give me plenty of advance warning so I can get a good running start.”
“I wonder what they’d taste like,” said Saturday, and Brett glared at him.
“Don’t encourage her. You’re almost as bad as she is. Am I the only one here who’s noticed they outnumber us by a hundred to one? And they are big! Seriously big! They’ve probably crapped more dangerous things than us! I can feel one of my heads coming on.” He watched the Ashrai circling slowly overhead. “How does anything that big and that heavy stay in the air anyway? I don’t care what kind of wingspan they’ve got, nothing that massive belongs in midair, particularly when I’m standing underneath it.”
“Calm down, Brett,” said Lewis. “You’re babbling. The Ashrai fly because their esp holds them up. Maybe they can fly unprotected through space after all . . . These are clearly powerful creatures.”
“The song’s back,” said Jesamine, her neck arched almost painfully back as she gazed adoringly into the sky. “It’s so much stronger here. It’s not just the trees. It’s them. The Ashrai and the forest, singing together, bound together. Can’t you hear it?”
None of them said anything, because it seemed to all of them that they could hear something. Jesamine opened her mouth and sang a delicate lilting song, older than the Golden Age, older than the age of heroes, from the days of the First Empire, when Humanity originally went out into the stars. The words were lost, but the melody remained, an ancient haunting evocation of days long gone, when to be human was to be part of a great adventure. The words were lost, but not the meaning. In their bones, and in their souls, Humanity remembered.
Jesamine sang, and the Ashrai sang with her. Their great voices filled the air; alien harmonies that joined with Jesamine’s song, augmenting it without drowning it. The song filled the clearing—a celebration of life, and the glory of existence, and the driving need to find a meaning for it all. Jesamine sang, her face full of rapture, and the Ashrai sang with her. Lewis stared at his love, stunned by the power in her voice. He felt as though he was in the presence of something sacred. Jesamine finally broke off, and the Ashrai stopped singing too. Jesamine slowly lowered her head, sweat dripping off her face, and she put out a shaking hand to Lewis. He took her in his arms, making his strength her own, and she clung to him.
“Oh, Lewis,” she said finally, her face turned into his chest. “I think now I finally understand how other people feel
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