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| Art by Jen Downes |
It must begin with a
magical city … because all unforgettable fantasies begin with magic, and as for
the city — New York or Paris or London, places of culture and learning, where
the past brushes shoulders with the dawning world of the future, in a time
where all is still possible. Steam locomotives chug by on polished rails, and helium
airships glide silently overhead … massive brass telescopes gaze into the
cosmos, and diving bells explore the depths of the ocean. Tomorrow beckons
brightly, while Yesterday looms like a shadow, dreadful with memories of the war, which almost destroyed everything.
But this isn’t any
city. This is Lorentia, the very place where the armistice was negotiated in the days of your great-grandfather’s grandfather. The felix —
descended from the superior race, older than humankind, older even then the
dragonae, and infinitely wiser than both — negotiated the peace and still oversee
it. Some places in this world belong to humans, and dragons may not fly there;
other places are the realms of dragonae, and humans beware. The two races
maintain a healthy distrust of each other, and a grudging respect.
And once a year the
three species, humans, dragonae and the felix come together in the city of
Lorentia for the Fire Festival, a remembrance of the great dead on both sides,
and a celebration of the courage it took to make peace. On this one night, the
dragonae come in to Lorentia. They come in peace, to fly and flame, while
humans photograph, paint, record, converse … and some lucky ones fly with the
massive old dragons who were there in the war years, and who survived.
The Fire Festival is
the high point of the year for all, and every child longs to attend. But until
they’re ten years old, children are banished. Dragons are vastly old, very
large and they remain wild. Their intelligence is keen, their knowledge of the
language of men is deep, but they have no interest in civilization. They treasure their wild life, beyond the mountains, and they’re
not about to change.
Tomas Gaffney is eight
years old, and obsessed with the dragonae. His ancestor fought in the war; the
family home is decorated with relics and images … a painting of the airship
from which his grandmother Alexandrina abseiled with the iron harpoons, which
was the way of the hunting, in the latter days of the war. There are dragonbone
antiques, dragonfang scrimshaw, crossed harpoons over the family’s crest on
Alexandrina’s warshield…
All of which has
filled Tomas’s young head with a desperate need to attend the Festival of Fire
… not two years from now, when he’ll be positively ancient. Now, this year! The
festival is just three days away, when he hatches a plot with his best friend,
Margarette. She has an aunt who lives in Lorentia. Aunt Rosa will let them
stay, if they can only get there. Rosa won’t send them away, because she did
the same thing when she was a child, and attended the festival when she was
eight!
The two hatch plots
and pack bags. They’ll meet in the city, where the Ten Dragon Bridge crosses
the river, and they’ll make their way to Rosa’s house. It’s all decided. Tomas makes it away from their village in the early twilight, under a
full harvest moon … he doesn’t know Margaretta gets caught before she can slip out of the house. Her father grabs her by the scruff of her raincoat and
hauls her back in …
Which means Tomas has
no one to meet at the bridge, and no idea where Rosa lives. He arrives in the
city alone — and lost. He waits for Margaretta for hours, but she doesn’t
arrive, and he guesses what happened. Now it’s late, getting really dark. The
lanterns are lit, people throng to the fairgrounds and the marketplaces, where
the festival will be celebrated. As a child, he’s not supposed to be here, and
as an outsider, he has no idea who he can ask for help.
He thinks about
heading for home, but it’s too late. It’s so dark now, and the way back
leads through woods and wilds that are dangerous at night. Wolves, vagabonds
and highwaymen menace the open road as soon as the sun sets. Tomas has no
choice but to brave the city till dawn.
He’s hungry, but he
has no money, and if he asks the City Guard to help, he’ll be in all kinds of
trouble. They’ll lock him up overnight, so he won’t even see the festival, and
they’ll send for his father in the morning. Tomas can expect to be grounded
for a hundred years, and do twice the study and three times the chores, to make
up for this foolishness. Since he’s going to pay the price, he decides to at
least see the festival first. But it’s dangerous in the city … and the danger
is not just the dragonae.
All his life, Tomas
has listened to whispers about “them city folks,” who can’t be trusted.
They’ll rob you blind and leave you for dead — so the neighbours say, and
Tomas’s father agreed with them. So he’s distrustful of every face that turns
toward him, and when someone tries to speak to him ... “Here, you, kid, you
shouldn’t be out on your own!” ... he takes to his heels and runs, losing himself in
the crush of people headed to the fairgrounds.
He sees the festival
from a distance, at last witnessing the terrible magnificence of the immense old
dragons and the playful cuteness of the young … but long past midnight it’s
cold and beginning to rain. He’s hungry and tired, and feels threatened by
every glance.
Starting to panic, he
runs into an alley, huddles against the wall and talks to himself, calling
himself all kinds of fool for doing this. He never expected an answer, but when
he looks up, it’s one of the felix, with beautiful golden eyes and
midnight-black fur, soft paws and an even softer voice.
The young cat can
guess Tomas’s problem … this happens every year, and sometimes foolish
children do get themselves into all kinds of trouble. This cat is called Tyree,
and though he doesn’t have to help Tomas, he has nothing better to do tonight,
now the dragons have gone up to Mount Garam to the Council of Elders. There’ll
be no more fireworks and flying till next festival, but if this human boy needs
to find his friend’s aunt, well, let’s see what the felix can do about that.
He takes Tomas to his
grandmother, the venerable and beautiful Zalana, who holds court where the
lanterns nod in the night wind and the scent of the river rises, strong and
salty, up the steep old streets. Zalana first takes Tomas to shelter — a
veranda belonging to a café that’s closed now, out of the wind and rain. She
petitions the little daughter of a baker across the lane, who tosses a couple
of the day’s leftover chocolate muffins out to Tomas, for his supper. Then Tomas takes a
nap, while the felix pass the word among their kind … where does a lady called Rosa
live?
All Tomas knows is
what Margaretta told him: her aunt lives beside one of the marketplaces, where
she smells the eel pies baking before dawn, and haggles with the cheesemonger
on her own doorstep, as he goes by to his shop, laden with great wheels of red
cheese. Tomas eats his supper, and is too tired to worry much before he slips
into dreams full of dragons and fabulous cats…
It’s dawn twilight
when Tyree wakes him. The felix think they've discovered Rosa’s house:
there’s a bakery opposite, a cheesemonger next door, right beside the
marketplace where the best eels are sold, and the name painted on the letterbox
is “R.M.I Visconti.” R for Rosa. Is Visconti the last name of Margaretta’s aunt? Tomas doesn’t
know, but he follows Tyree across the city … over the bridge, through alleyways
and tiny streets, where the two are swept up in adventures, with daring escapes
They dodge a big and
bad-tempered constable from the City Guard, and Tomas is certain he’s become a desperate fugitive from the law. They flee from an innkeeper who thinks they’re up to no
good, and about to steal the milk bottles off her doorstep. And, skidding around
a corner to escape a laundryman carrying a huge wicker hamper — he looks exactly
like a pirate, out kidnap a young boy and a young felix and hold them to ransom —
they run face-first into a dragonling called Shimui.
Shimui is still
growing into her wings, and is waiting for her mother to give her a ride
home beyond the mountains. While they get their breath back, Tomas and Tyree
listen to the dragonling’s stories of her home. Her mother is the biggest of
the dragons, Shimandara, whom Tomas saw at the fairground the night before. Shimandara
thrilled the crowd with displays like fireworks, before flying off to the roost
atop Mount Garam, where she and the dragonae elders sat in council with the human
elders till dawn.
Both Tomas and Tyree
would dearly love to cross the mountains and see the homeland of the dragonae,
but it’s still forbidden. Perhaps things might change in the future, if the felix
can negotiate a festival in which humans travel north to the Land of Fire, just
as the dragonae come to Lorentia for this festival. They’ve been trying to strike a deal, and Tyree
hopes it will happen ... but Shimandara’s people are still wary. The biggest, oldest dragons still
remember the airships, the hunters, the harpoons. The peace between humans and
dragonae is still fragile.
Shimui hears her
people calling, and flaps off to join them. Tomas watches wistfully as the young
dragon vanishes into the clouds on the shoulder of Mount Garam. Hurrying on, he
and Tyree soon find themselves at Rosa’s backdoor … it creaks open … but who should be standing there but Tomas’s father.
In fact, Margaretta
told him everything, and Tomas’s dad knew they’d intended to make for Rosa’s
house. This would be Tomas’s plan, if only he knew where the lady lived! Tomas’s father
is Sebastian Gaffney. He's just as proud of the family heritage as Tomas is, just as
enchanted by dragons, and very understanding.
Which is not to say
Tomas won’t have to do the study and the chores to make up for this
foolishness. He knows now, the city is no place for children to be running
around alone, especially at “fire time,” when all manner of rogues come in to
“do business” along the river. Sebastian spent the whole night searching for
Tomas, but the first hint of him came from a felix called Ninoushka, who’d heard
the story of a lost boy from another felix, and another, back along all the
alleyways to Grandmother Zalana’s court.
Aunt Rosa just cackles
in amusement, remembering when she did this herself. A lot of children do! And
after breakfast, Tomas and his father set off for the village, in the family’s
pony cart. Tyree rides up on the pony’s shoulder to the edge of the city and then
turns for home, while Tomas shouts an invitation to come to the village and visit.
Tired, relieved, not
unhappy and resigned to the extra lessons and chores, Tomas leans over the back
of the art, watching the city disappear behind, and breathing in the strange,
sharp smell on the morning air that to him will always mean dragons.
