Return of the Dragonslayers
This chapter has some dragon history in it, told by everyone's favorite dragon, Fireflash!
While his daughter and Fireflash slumbered, wandering the realm of dreams, the Potions Master brewed triple doses of the dragonbane antidote with the help of Leo and Drake. He later sent Drake out to the backyard to take over watching the dragon from Ari. Ari promptly returned to the house and began making breakfast for them, insisting they eat something, though no one was particularly hungry.
Afterwards, Leo suggested his wife take a nap, for she too had spent a good deal of her magic trying to revive Fireflash and she was not as young as her granddaughter. Ari acquiesced without much of an argument, much to Leo's surprise, making him concerned that she had spent more than she could afford. But Ari showed no signs of the utter exhaustion that accompanied overspending your powers. She was merely tired from being woken up at the crack of dawn and then using her magic relentlessly to combat one of the most insidious poisons known to mankind.
Thanks to Leo's skill with plants and growth charms, Severus now did not need to fear running out of the necessary ingredients for the antidote anytime soon, since the herbs formed the basis of the potion. Leo observed the Potions Master carefully as he mixed the second batch of the antidote, and was soon impressed by the other man's expertise. Amelia was right. He really is a gifted wizard, and not just in Potions. He's a combat master to rival the best in the Dark Hunter Academy, or else I'm no earth mage. Thank God he was here when Flash was struck down, because I would never have been able to make this potion in time to save him. And losing a bronze dragon would have been a tragedy we could ill afford.
He said as much to the professor, who replied quietly that the real miracle was how the bronze had managed to get here after being shot with the quarrel at all. "He has tremendous strength of will, Leo. Dragonbane's not a slow poison, it reacts quickly once it enters a dragon's bloodstream, attacking the nervous system in moments. Yet somehow, Flash managed to fly here before being overwhelmed by the poison. That takes an incredible act of will and determination that's almost unheard of. When he called Arista, he was nearly gone, but he reached her nevertheless." There was undisguised admiration in his tone. "Fireflash is an amazing creature, even for a bronze dragon."
"He is indeed. I was always glad when Amelia was partnered with him, because I knew he'd protect her better than any other Hunter on the force. There are few people in the world brave to challenge a bronze dragon."
"Yet they didn't partner her with him when she went to hunt down Nightshade," Severus said quietly. Livia Nightshade had been the fugitive necromancer his wife had been hunting and who had later killed her.
"No," Leo said sadly. "And I still don't understand why not. Instead they sent Flash off on a different mission, then went to Amelia and ordered her to track Nightshade. Stupid of them really. But maybe they figured that after Slade, Amelia was better off on her own. That's one mistake that I'll never forgive them for."
"Me either," Severus said softly. Any more than I can ever forgive myself for not being at her side. We should have been together, Nightshade couldn't have defeated us both. I will always regret not insisting I go along to help her, that she died alone facing her worst enemy, my name the last word she ever spoke.
Ever since Nightshade had confessed that bit of information to him last summer, before she herself had been killed, he had felt the weight of guilt and regret settle upon him like a sledgehammer. Even though the logical part of his mind insisted there was no way he could have known the outcome of Amelia's battle with Nightshade, much less been on hand to prevent it, being over five hundred miles away across an ocean, the guilt lingered. Snape feared it always would, illogical as that was.
Then he shook his head and returned to focusing on the task at hand. Dwelling on what might have been was pointless, today was what mattered. At least he had been on hand to save his friend Fireflash, who was perhaps the only other being on the planet to share those precious memories of his time with his beloved Amelia. Like Amelia, the bronze had seen the best in him, and had been a friend to him when he was certain he didn't deserve one. In a way, what he'd done here this morning helped repay the dragon's trust in him, though he knew it was not something Fireflash would have ever requested from him.
"I think three batches are enough for now," Snape declared, stretching to relieve muscles cramped from bending over a cauldron stirring for over three hours. "How long has he been asleep?"
Leo checked his watch. "Ah, close to two hours. Is it time for another dose then?"
Snape nodded. "It's a little early, but that shouldn't matter too much. Better too early than too late." He waved his wand over one of the full cauldrons of the antidote and transported it out to where the bronze slept.
It appeared beside Drake's feet with a loud pop, startling the apprentice so badly he almost fell over. But the dark haired boy soon recovered, realizing immediately that it was time for the dragon's next dose, for he'd often served as his father's veterinary assistant. "Fireflash, wake up!" he called to the big lizard, practically shouting into one of the bronze's ears.
The dragon twitched, yawned, and opened his eyes. "Hey, kid, tone it down, will ya? I'm trying to rest here."
"Sorry, but it's time for more medicine," Drake said apologetically, just as Severus emerged from the house with Leo.
"Already? I just closed my eyes," Fireflash grumbled.
"You've been asleep for two hours," Severus told the bronze. "Now quit complaining and just take your medicine, all right?"
"Watch it, Sev. I'm not your son," the bronze snorted peevishly. Then he dipped his head and drank, emptying the cauldron in a few minutes. "Happy now?"
"How do you feel?" Snape inquired, noting that the antidote seemed to revive the dragon almost immediately.
"About ten feet further from death's door. I need about twenty hours of sleep. Every damn muscle in my body aches."
"That's an after effect of the poisoning," Leo stated. "You should feel better by tomorrow."
The dragon nodded, then settled his head on his forefeet again and fell back asleep.
Drake was yawning slightly, though he tried not to show it. Leo saw and said, "Why don't you go and take a nap, son? I can watch Flash for the time being. I got more sleep than all of you."
Drake glanced at his professor. "Is that okay with you, sir?"
Snape nodded. "You're excused, Lockwood. Go to bed."
The boy didn't need to be told twice. He rose and made his way back to the house, grateful for once about being ordered to bed.
"You ought to get a bit of rest yourself, Severus," Leo said then, noting the dark circles under the other wizard's eyes.
For one moment, Snape considered arguing, not wanting to admit he too was tired, but then he though better of it and agreed. "Maybe I will sleep for an hour or so."
"I'll hold down the fort," Leo said, then conjured a lawn chair over and sat upon it with his feet up and a magazine in one hand. "Catch up on the new species in the Magical Plants and Herbs periodical."
Severus left him happily perusing his magazine and Apparated right into his bedroom, where he tossed his robe on a chair and fell into bed, sleep hitting him like a rock.
He was awakened an hour and a half later by Arista screaming. He had never heard her scream like that, one long pain-filled howl of denial. It brought him awake in a flash, pausing only to shrug into his shirt and snatch his wand from the nightstand before he bolted out the door.
He charged into Arista's room, wand leveled, ready to blast someone. But all he saw was his child tangled up in the bedcovers, her face pale as a ghost's, whimpering and moaning like one possessed.
He was at her side in an instant, one hand reaching out to feel her forehead. It was wet with sweat, but not feverish. "No! You can't be dead!" she sobbed.
He shook her shoulder. "Arista! Wake up, you're having a nightmare," he called softly.
Her eyes opened, but they were dazed and confused. "Dad? How did he die? I thought I saved him, I really did!" Her eyes filled with tears.
"Arista, you were dreaming," he said, hugging her to him. "None of it's real."
"But I saw Fireflash die!" she sobbed, clinging to him. "The dragonbane, it went into his heart and then he died. I felt it!"
"Hush. That was only a dream, child. Fireflash is alive, he's right outside, sleeping," Severus soothed, cradling the sobbing girl on his lap, rubbing her back much as he had Marietta's that Fourth of July night.
Drake burst into the room, his hair tousled from sleep. "Professor? What's going on?"
"Just a nightmare, Drake," he answered. "Do me a favor, go and check on Fireflash. Arista dreamed he died and it's really upset her."
Drake took one look at his friend and did as he was told, thinking, Hell, that must have been some terrible nightmare. I've never seen her cry like that before. Come to think of it, I've never seen her cry at all. Arista's always been brave as a bronze dragon.
He returned some five minutes later, bearing the good news. Fireflash was doing much better, though he was still asleep, he was definitely not dead.
By that time Arista had stopped crying, much of her initial terror and despair abated by her father's reassuring words and his comforting presence. She allowed herself to be held a moment more, then drew away, wiping her face with a tissue.
"You all right now?" he asked, peering at her worriedly.
"Yeah." Now that the initial horror was past, she felt herself flush in embarrassment. I'm such an idiot, having a stupid nightmare and then waking him up screaming like a baby. But the dream had not felt like a dream. "It felt real," she murmured, half to herself.
"What?"
"I said it felt real," she repeated slowly. "The dream I had, it felt like—like a vision rather than a dream. But I know I'm no Seer."
"You've been under a lot of stress. Sometimes that can cause your mind to imagine things," her father said.
"I'm not crazy, Dad," she snapped indignantly.
"I never said you were," he answered. "But you absorbed a lot of Fireflash's emotions when you healed him, and maybe this nightmare you had is a result of that."
"I don't know. What I dreamed . . .I saw him flying, then a quarrel came and struck him down. I felt him fall, then he landed on the ground, and he never got up again. The dragonbane on the quarrel killed him within minutes. I felt him die, but just before he did, he called out to me." She shivered suddenly, a chill racing down her spine. Severus draped an arm about her comfortingly. "He said, Avenge me. Find the murderers who broke the pact and avenge me. Then I woke up. I've never dreamed anything like that before. What can it mean?"
"That you need a stronger Sleeping Draft," the Potions Master answered.
"Dad, I'm serious."
"So am I. I think you need a decent night's sleep rather than a dream interpreter."
Arista frowned, certain she was missing something. "No, that's not it. I know I need sleep, but what if the dream wasn't a warning of something to come, but of something that had already happened? A memory rather than a dream?"
Snape shook his head. "I think you're overanalyzing this, my girl. You've been listening to Trelawney, attributing sense to her mystical babble. Dreams that foretell the future or hold the key to your past," he mocked softly. "Sometimes dreams are just that—dreams."
"And sometimes they aren't." Arista argued softly. "Dad, I know you think she's nuts, and half the time you're probably right, she does contradict herself, but she has to be right about something. She's predicted true at least twice . . ."
"Twice in her whole career of fourteen years," the Potions Master snorted derisively. "Not a very impressive track record. I don't trust prophecies, Arista. They're vague, ambiguous, and they can lead one to assume things that may or may not be true. That's why I never rely on them. They can destroy as well as save, depending on how you interpret them. I make my own future and prophecy be hanged."
"But we're not talking prophecies here." She huffed exasperatedly. "My dream wasn't a prediction of the future, but of the past."
"A past that never happened, because Fireflash never died," Drake pointed out, coming into the room and catching the last of the conversation. "He's fine, sir. Sleeping like a baby. Leo says he never stirred once all afternoon and his vitals are all normal."
"There, you see? Nothing to worry about," Severus gestured to Drake. "If you won't listen to me, maybe you'll listen to your friend, huh?"
Arista sighed. "That's great, but I'm missing something. The dream didn't feel like a warning of what might be, but of something that had already happened. That's why I was so confused when I woke up. Because what I dreamed didn't match with what I already knew to be true. But it felt too real for me not to believe it, that's what scared me to death." She put the tip of her tongue between her teeth, the way she usually did when she was thinking hard. "A memory rather than a dream," she muttered, ignoring Snape's eye roll at Drake. "But not my memory. That's it!"
"Huh? You've just lost me," Drake said, puzzled. "How can you have a memory that's not yours?"
"Because I linked with Fireflash when I healed him," Arista replied. "And in doing so I absorbed his memories as well as his emotions. It happens sometimes, can't be helped, especially when I'm projecting strongly. I leave myself open in return, and his memories become entwined with my own. That's what happened here, I'm sure of it. Before I fell asleep, I was remembering how it had felt to be shot with a quarrel, only I never was. And the time was different." She closed her eyes, picturing the two memories side by side. "Flash was shot sometime in the morning, the sun wasn't even up above the horizon. But in the dream, it was afternoon, close to sunset, because the shadows were stretching out along the ground where the dragon had fallen."
"But how could Fireflash remember something that never actually happened?" Drake frowned. "Arista, that's impossible."
"No, it isn't. Because he wasn't remembering it happening to him," she gasped, hitting herself in the forehead. "I get it now."
"Oh, good. Because it sounds like you're talking yourself in circles," Snape said tartly. "Explain to the rest of us unenlightened mortals, won't you?"
"It's simple. Bronzes have a limited telepathic ability, they can send and receive thoughts and emotions from each other. I learned that in my Magical Creatures class with Jenna a long time ago. It's how they relay information to each other so quickly. Bronzes in the same clan are especially close, sharing thoughts and emotions frequently. Especially under times of great stress, such as dying from a poisoned quarrel."
"But we just told you—Fireflash isn't dead!" Drake cried exasperatedly.
"I know that, Lockwood! That's where I made my mistake. I assumed the dragon in my dream memory was Fireflash. Only it wasn't. It was another dragon, one Fireflash knew very well. He was the one who died, that's what Fireflash remembered, that's what he projected to me when I was trying to save him. He was terrified out of his mind when I touched him with my empathy, because he knew how that other dragon had died, he'd shared the other one's last moments. Dragonbane kills swiftly unless you've got a healer on hand to arrest the poison and another to brew up an antidote," Arista recited sadly. "That other dragon never had a chance, he was alone, far from help, and he'd been shot directly in the heart. All he could do was project his dying thoughts to his family. That's what Fireflash remembered. And so did I."
Drake was looking more puzzled than ever. "But how can you remember what never happened to you?"
"Pay attention, Drake!" she snapped, sounding so much like her father that Severus raised and eyebrow. " It was a shared memory, and probably not one Flash ever intended to let me see. But when you're one step away from death, your emotions and thoughts aren't logical, and I received whatever was uppermost in his mind, namely that he was afraid of dying because he'd experienced this other bronze's death. He shared that memory with me, only I didn't know it until later, when I fell asleep and my mind had time to replay through all the emotions and memories I'd gotten from him."
"If you say so," Drake shrugged, still skeptical.
"I do. You'd have to be an empath to understand."
"But if you're right, and another dragon died, then this is more serious than we thought," Severus said softly. "It means somebody is hunting dragons again, trying to destroy them all the way they did all those centuries ago."
"But that's crazy, sir!" Drake exclaimed. "Who'd be nuts enough to risk their life killing dragons?"
"Somebody who believes they don't have the right to exist," Arista whispered, shivering violently. "Somebody who follows the old ways. Somebody who is a member of the Dragonslayer Guild."
"The what? The Dragonslayer Guild?" Drake repeated in astonishment.
Father and daughter exchanged mutual glances of concern, ignoring him. "We have to talk to Fireflash next time he wakes up," Severus said decisively. "If a dark wizard's trying to bring back the Guild, we have some serious damn problems here."
"I'll say," Drake muttered irritably. "Especially when I don't understand half of what's going on."
"You think he'll talk to us about it?" Arista asked Snape. "Bronzes don't usually volunteer information about that subject voluntarily."
"He doesn't have much of a choice. Not when you already know about the other dragon dying," Severus reminded her. "Besides, he has to tell us what's going on if we're to help him. We need the whole story."
"So do I," Drake said loudly. "Would someone please tell me what's going on? What's the Dragonslayer Guild?"
"It's another name for genocide, Lockwood," the professor answered, his eyes hard. "It's the biggest Ministry cover up in centuries. Listen and remember." He then went on to explain how centuries before there was an organization called the Dragonslayer Guild, composed mainly of powerful nobles, both wizards and Muggles, who believed wholeheartedly in the extermination of an entire species—the dragon. He told Drake of the way the Dragonslayer Guild had manipulated the crowned heads of Europe, convincing them that all dragons were monsters, out to kill and eat humans, and how they also had hoards of gold piled up, stolen illegally, that needed to be recovered. He told Drake the same way Fireflash had told him, that summer day in the glen.
"Most of what they told people was lies, half-truths fabricated to excuse their own greed and bloodlust," Severus said heatedly. "The dragons, especially the bronze dragons, were becoming too powerful and influence, and they didn't like it. So they resorted to rumor and prejudice to bring them down. And the royals bought it, the bloody fools! So did the Ministry of Magic. Fireflash told me that the bronzes were betrayed by the wizards they helped, that we gave them to their enemies, telling the Guild where to find their lairs and how to kill them with dragonbane."
"Not only that, but we started using dragon parts in our potions and spells. Like the Dragon's Breath potion, which is outlawed here. It's supposed to give a wizard the ability to breathe fire like a dragon," Arista added angrily. "Its main ingredient is a bronze dragon's heart."
Drake looked sick. "No way! That's—that's disgusting."
"That was why the bronzes left Europe and Asia and returned here," she continued. "It was called the Dragon Exodus and they came back to America to save themselves. Every American apprentice wizard learns that as part of your History of Magic class. When settlers came here from Europe, the wizards with them made a pact with the bronze dragons to never hunt them and to be their friends and allies. It was kind of forced on them, actually, since the leader of the bronzes at the time, Brightwing, threatened to kill them if they didn't agree to it. So Avery Dee, who later became the founder of the American Magical Association, agreed to keep the peace, and signed the pact, making it binding under magical oath with witnesses. And so the bronzes became our friends and allies, the way they'd been before the Exodus, before the Guild put a bounty on their heads. That's why no American wizard will ever use dragon parts in our potions, only substitutes. And harming a bronze dragon deliberately will get you sent to Inferno for life. Assuming you survive the dragon, that is."
"Which doesn't happen very often, I'll bet," Drake remarked wryly.
"No. But that was one of the main causes of the American Wizard Revolution, besides the gesture versus wand debate," Arista told him. "The British wizards who came here along with the soldiers and governors of the Crown still followed the old ways, including using dragon parts in their potions. When the Americans explained that such was forbidden over here, they laughed at us and said they were entitled to practice magic any way they wanted, they were superior to any colonial wizard ever born. The Honorable Samuel Black called us "backwoods colonial conjurers with no notion of proper magical methods". He claimed we were brainwashed by the bronzes and he and his would do as they damn well pleased.
"When Brightwing learned about that, he was furious. It was all we could do to prevent him from rising and declaring war upon all of us. He called on us to uphold the Dragon Pact our ancestors swore to long ago. So we did. We told Black and his other friends what would happen if they disregarded our rules. But Black was arrogant and selfish, he thought he knew better than us, and he refused to listen. So the American wizards, under Selina Ambrosius, who was a descendant of Merlin, by the way, rebelled. Thus we fought the Wizard Revolution, not just over methods of casting but over a promise made to a bronze dragon, to never slaughter his kind as if they were mere sheep. To this day, all American wizards swear that oath, it's the second one we swear to when we sign our articles of apprenticeship, a blood oath, and no American wizard I know of would break it."
"Except someone has," Severus said gravely. "Someone here is killing off bronze dragons and trying to bring back the age of the dragonslayers."
"Trying to start a war here that no one will ever win," Arista hissed, all the blood draining from her face. "We need to stop this before it spirals out of control. I need to talk to Fireflash. I've sworn Dragon's Oath, I'm bound to uphold it. I just hope it isn't too late."
On that note, the other two wizards rose and left Arista alone to get dressed, saying they'd meet her in the backyard in half an hour. They would wake up Fireflash to administer more of the antidote and then question him about Arista's disturbing memory as well as the possibility of a rogue wizard bringing back the hated Dragonslayer Guild.
They gathered on the lawn, waiting while Severus summoned yet another cauldron full of the silvery antidote to him. Leo had returned to the house to sleep now that Severus and Arista were awake to assume watch over their patient. By silent agreement, none of the Hogwarts wizards mentioned the topic they had discussed, wanting to speak with Fireflash before they began spouting off an unproven theory to anyone, even the Amarottis.
Fireflash awoke almost instantly when Arista nudged him mentally, opening his azure eyes wide and gazing curiously about him. "Time for more potion?" he asked.
"That and we have a few questions for you too," Arista said, seating herself on the ground near the bronze's forefoot.
Fireflash blew softly at her. "Figured you might." He curled his neck and drank the potion. Once he'd finished the dose, he settled back on his haunches, his neck frills lifted slightly to catch the warmth of the midmorning sun, and said, "If you're wondering who it was that shot me, I don't know. I never saw the person shooting, he was under cover. If I had, he wouldn't be here now." The bronze's lip curled, showing ivory fangs sharper than swords.
"But there were two of them," Arista corrected softly. "You were ambushed, weren't you?"
The bronze's eyes narrowed. "How do you know that, Arista?"
"When I linked with you before, to keep you alive, I felt and saw what happened to you. There were two people attacking you, not one. The first quarrel you dodged, but you didn't see the second until it was too late."
"You're right," Fireflash admitted reluctantly. "It was an ambush, and one that I never saw coming, more fool I." He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "As many years as I've been a Hunter, I should have been more aware. And know better than to think I can hide my emotions from an empath too."
"Nobody's perfect, Flash. Not even a bronze dragon," Severus said gently. "Go on, Arista. Tell him of your dream or whatever."
"After I healed you, I went to sleep," Arista began. "I dreamed you had died from a dragonbane laced quarrel. Except when I woke up and had time to recall it, I realized the dragon in my memory wasn't you, Flash. It was another one, one that you'd shared a death imprint with." She gazed up into the dragon's azure eyes. "Who was he, Flash? And who in God's name is hunting your people again?"
Fireflash looked down at the diminutive Healer with a rueful grin. "Can't have secrets at all around a blasted empath, can I?"
"Not one who's brought you back from the brink of death, no," Arista said. "I'm sorry if I saw something I shouldn't, but it wasn't done on purpose."
"I know. But what you saw is, uh, classified information, sweetie. Not to be discussed unless you're a Hunter or a member of my clan. However, seeing as I owe all of you a life debt, I can make an exception." He tapped a talon against his chin thoughtfully. "On one condition. Both of you," he pointed his talon at Severus and Drake. "Have to swear Dragon's Oath. Only then can I reveal the truth of what I saw to you. Are you willing to do that?"
"It's a blood oath, isn't it?" Snape clarified. "What does it entail?"
"Your promise to never betray us to our ancient enemies, those wizards who believe in dragonslaying. And also to offer your aid to one of us if there is need and to protect us if necessary, even against one of your own. Not something to take lightly, Sev."
"And what do you offer us in return?"
"The same. Like you, we are also bound by our terms. It works both ways." Fireflash answered. "We don't do things by half measures. All American wizards swear Dragon's Oath upon signing their articles of apprenticeship. It had to be that way, for our safety as well as yours. Do you agree?"
Severus nodded. "I have no objection to it." He turned to Drake. "How about you, Lockwood?"
"I'll do it," Drake answered, then asked, "Do I have to open up a vein or something? Because I don't know if I can do that to myself."
Fireflash snickered. "Of course not, what d'you think I am, a vampire? All a blood oath involves is a drop of blood, kid, given freely by the oathtaker, after making his pledge." He rubbed the side of his talon against his front tooth, scraping off a narrow piece of his nail. "Here. You can stick yourself with this, Sev. It's so sharp you won't even feel it." He handed the paring to the Potions Master, it was about the size of a good butcher knife, needle-sharp and golden colored.
"Ready?" the dragon asked. Severus nodded. "Repeat after me, then prick your finger. I, Severus Snape, do solemnly swear that I shall protect and defend bronze dragons from all who seek to do them harm, and give any bronze aid if it is in my power to do so. I name myself ally and friend to them for as long as I shall live, by my magic and my blood, I so swear."
Snape repeated the words quickly, then jabbed the ball of his thumb with the dragon talon paring. Fireflash was right, the paring was so sharp he didn't even feel it enter his skin. A single drop of blood welled up on his finger and he held out his hand to the dragon.
Fireflash's tongue flicked out and licked the drop of blood, murmuring, "I, Fireflash, son of Sardonyx and Citrine, of the Brightwings clan, have heard and witnessed your oath, Severus Snape. I swear the same in return, for myself and all of my kind, until the end of all things. Welcome, Potions Master, to the Society of Bronze."
When Severus drew his hand back, the place where he had pricked his finger was healed over. Fireflash smirked. "Dragon saliva. It seals most wounds."
"Your turn, Lockwood," the professor stated. "Give me your hand."
Drake gulped softly, then held out his hand. His teacher took his wrist firmly, poising the ultra sharp dragon paring above the boy's thumb.
Drake looked away swiftly, then said, "Okay. Let's do it then. I, Drake Robert Lockwood, do solemnly swear . . ." he repeated the oath word for word after the bronze, not stuttering at all, though Arista knew he was a little nervous. He winced slightly when Snape pricked his finger, though it didn't really hurt, then held out his hand for Fireflash to accept his oath.
Once the oaths were taken, Fireflash tossed the paring up into the air and breathed a tiny jet of flame at it, burning the fragment to ash. "So no one can use sympathetic magic against you," he explained at Drake's puzzled look. "Like possession or voodoo, know what I mean?"
"But isn't that forbidden?"
"Sure it is, but that don't mean it doesn't get practiced. Especially down south in the bayous of Louisiana. Got a thriving cult of witch doctors and voodoo queens down there. Most are white users, but there are the occasional black ones too, and sometimes it's hard to tell which is which." The dragon shrugged one massive shoulder. "But that's not what concerns you." He turned back to Arista. "To answer your question, Miss Snape, the dragon whom you saw die in your dream was my cousin, the great Aventurine. He was a retired Dark Hunter, and his loss will be sorely felt by all of us."
"Aventurine? Not the same one with the statue in the Octagonal Garden?" Arista cried in dismay.
"The same," Fireflash dipped his head sadly. "His like will not be seen again. As a young dragonet, he was my teacher and my role model. He was the reason I became a Dark Hunter. I was out hunting his murderer when I was struck down."
"I'm so sorry, Flash," Arista murmured, blinking back tears. "Does this have anything to do with the return of the Dragonslayer Guild?"
"You're too quick by half, girl," the bronze said. "Like your mother. All of my clan shared Aventurine's deathsong, as is proper among us. But to me he sent an image of the one who struck him down, making me his Avenger. That's what we do when one of us is murdered, which hasn't happened in over two hundred years, not since the Revolution. The one who receives the image of the murderer is oathbound to avenge his relative's death. Aventurine knew only I would be able to handle it, that was why he chose me. A Hunter to avenge a Hunter's death." Fireflash bared his fangs, his voice a low rumble of fury that made the wizards beside him shiver in instinctive fear. "Only the image he sent me wasn't very clear, he only caught a glimpse of the wizard before he died."
"Can you describe him, Flash?" Severus asked.
"Yes. He was a young man, around his mid-twenties, I think. Not too tall, with sandy hair and rather stocky. Dark eyes and wearing a hooded red cloak and carrying a dragon-calibrated crossbow. Not much to go on, I know. But Aventurine didn't have time to ID the bastard before he died, the quarrel was too close to his heart, and he went down almost instantly. He knew what he was doing, the scum. He'd hunted wyverns or something like us before, to be so accurate."
"Is this the only death you've had so far?" Severus asked, looking at the bronze shrewdly.
Fireflash shook his head. "No, though I wish like hell it was. Aventurine was the fifth attack in about three months. It has to be a group of them, because those who managed to identify their attackers before they died have all described different people."
"Or it could be the same person using Polyjuice potion," Drake interjected.
"Hmm. Yes, that's a possibility. But I'm inclined to think otherwise. All five victims were killed with dragonbane, but using different methods. Starsong was stabbed with a lance. Brightfang was sprayed with dragonbane laced water as he drank from a forest pool. Amber was one of the few who actually fought her attacker before she succumbed to his dragonbane tipped darts. And the one who killed her was older than the man who nailed Aventurine, somewhere in his late fifties with graying hair and a scar on his left cheek. Mirrordusk didn't even see his attacker, the poor kid was landing to hunt something for breakfast and stepped on the trap they had planted. Died stabbed by a dozen damn spears. That suggest to me that whoever is behind this has studied methods used by the Dragonslayer Guild."
"Where would they find such information?" Arista asked softly.
"Over in Europe and Britain, probably. The records of the Guild were kept there," Fireflash said. "What's worse, is that all five bodies were desecrated."
"What do you mean, sir?" Drake frowned. "Desecrated how?"
"All five hearts are missing. Stolen away by the dragonslayers to make that vile outlawed potion Dragon's Breath!" the bronze spat, his azure eyes simmering with wrath. Smoke trickled from his nostrils. "My grandmother, Goldwing, believes that they are intending to sell the potion to the highest bidder on the Shadow Exchange. To those who can meet their price, Dragon's Breath is worth a small fortune."
"But that's—that's barbaric!" Arista cried, feeling sick. "And a violation of Dragon's Oath. If they're caught it'll mean life in Inferno."
Fireflash snarled, "Only if they're caught by a Hunter, little Healer. Any bronze who finds them is ordered to pass a sentence of death upon them, without exception. Only we can't manage to find them. That's why we've called in the Dragon's Advocate and his apprentice to help."
"The Dragon's Advocate?" Severus repeated. "What's that?"
"The title given to the Dark Hunter who works most closely with us bronzes. He's one we trust implicitly to represent us to the AMA, who has our best interests at heart."
"Sounds like he would know how best to betray you too," Snape said darkly.
Fireflash shook his head vehemently. "No way. Merrick is bound by even stronger oaths than the one you just swore, Sev. He's been given Veritaserum and truth read by one of our matriarchs as well. He's no traitor. He's out there right now, trying to bring some of them down. His partner, Brightfang, was one of those killed. He wants the dragonslayers dead as much as any dragon."
"Then the one leading these dragonslayers has to be someone with access to Ministry records," the Potions Master mused. "Things that are restricted, for no one can make Dragon's Breath without approval from the Ministry, the formula's forbidden to any wizard without it. So your leader has to be someone with connections in the Ministry of Magic. And also someone who is an experienced potion maker, because I doubt that draft is easy to brew."
"One of your Death Eaters, Sev?"
"Perhaps. Or someone who wants to become one," Severus replied, scowling. "Someone who's depraved and dangerous, who doesn't fear getting caught, not even by a bronze dragon."
"He'll learn differently one day, by George!" Fireflash vowed, a tiny spurt of flame emerging from his jaws. He opened his wings briefly, testing the muscles. "Still not up to real flight," he muttered, heaving a sigh.
"Give it time, Flash. You almost died, you can't expect to bounce back from dragonbane poisoning in a day or even a week," Arista told him. She placed a hand on his leg, reading him with her talent. "Your lungs and heart are good and so are the neural pathways in your brain," she reported. "But you've still got pockets of poison lingering in the muscles of your spine, hindlegs, and shoulders."
"I thought you said the antidote neutralized it," the dragon growled peevishly.
"It has, but dragonbane tends to linger in your system even after it's been neutralized," she answered. "That's why you need to keep taking the antidote, so it can help you break down the particles still remaining. I think another day or two and the poison will be completely gone. But you could experience muscle spasms still for months afterwards."
"So should I continue taking the antidote after that?"
Arista shook her head. "No. Once the poison's gone from your system you have to stop taking the antidote. Otherwise you could become addicted to it."
Fireflash stared at her. "What the hell's in it that makes it addictive?"
"Mandrake root," Arista answered before Severus could reply. "It counteracts the paralysis from the dragonbane, but you know how easy it is for a dragon's system to become addicted to it, Flash."
"Mandrake root! Blazes, kid, the cure's almost as bad as the poison," the bronze exclaimed. "No wonder I feel like my head's two sizes bigger than the rest of me. You sure it's safe for me to keep drinking that stuff?"
"Yes. But only for so long. Don't worry, Flash, I won't let you get addicted to mandrake," she reassured him.
"You'd better not. I had a third cousin who became addicted to it, and we had to watch him all the time, to make sure he didn't kill himself flying into a cliff or something, chasing visions that were never there to begin with. He was totally bonkers, talked to people and dragons that were only in his imagination, and he had to have two keepers with him always, to keep him calm, because if he got mad, he'd flame anything close to him." Fireflash shuddered. "I'd rather die than live like that."
"Is he still alive?" Drake asked.
"Yeah. Still madder than a March hare too. We only see him on clan reunions, he's too unpredictable to be around otherwise."
"Can't the addiction be reversed somehow?" Drake wanted to know.
"Not now. He's been addicted for over fifty years now. The withdrawal symptoms alone would kill him, his body's too dependent on it," Fireflash said sadly. "Poor Pyrite. He used to be an ace, flew against the Chinese Reds during World War II in the Pacific. Now he sees fuzzy pink bunnies everywhere and thinks he is one sometimes. But that's better than the times he thinks he's still on a mission in the Pacific. Last time he was in that frame of mind, he lit up half the Olympic Basin with a wildfire it took days to put out, even with weather magic."
"Holy God!" Drake whispered, exchanging glances of alarm with Arista.
"But that was fifteen years ago, before his keepers learned how to direct his visions into something safe, like fuzzy bunnies or whatever. He still doesn't know about that incident, and nobody will tell him either, for fear he'll try to kill himself over it. Thirty people died, the fire spread too fast for them to get away in time. Pyrite would never forgive himself for that. Bronzes don't kill innocents, especially not ones like him, who were once war heroes."
"Trust me, Flash. I'll stop giving you the antidote long before your threshold is reached," Arista reassured him. "You're a long way from that point yet, so don't worry."
"And I'm gonna stay that way. I can't hunt down Aventurine's murderer if I think I'm the Energizer Bunny, that's for damn sure."
Arista giggled at the reference, and Fireflash glared at her. Then he licked his lips and said, "I'm starting to feel a bit sleepy now, but next time I wake up, I'm going to need something in my stomach. Which means a midnight trip to the ocean."
"The ocean?" Severus repeated. "But that's miles from here. How are you going to get there without flying?"
"Dragon magic, of course." Fireflash shrugged. "You'll see what I mean." You've seen it before, Sev, only you won't remember it. But this time you can keep your memory of the portal, since you're sworn and the holder of my life debt. The holder of a bronze's life debt is granted special privileges, much like the Advocate.
"What do you eat anyhow, Flash?" Drake asked, eyeing the big creature uneasily.
"Not innocent maidens or bad apprentices," the dragon said with a toothy grin. "My main diet is fish, mostly yellow and bluefin tuna and occasionally swordfish if I can find one. The rest of it is sea kelp, which gives my scales their natural sparkle, and sometimes ostriches and their eggs. Advocate Merrick runs an ostrich farm down in Texas and sometimes he lets us hunt on his range." The dragon sighed wistfully. "I haven't had ostrich in a good two months. Maybe when I'm feeling up to it, I'll detour over to his farm and have a nice ostrich or three as a snack."
"Do they taste like chicken?" Arista teased.
"Nope. They taste like ostrich," the dragon smirked. "You mean to tell me you never ate an ostrich burger when you were down in Texas with Jenna and Colin, kid?"
"No. I thought beef was safer."
"Ah, kid, you don't know what you've been missing. There's nothing quite like a good juicy ostrich, fresh from a run," the dragon said rapturously. "Just ask the Advocate, he lives off them too." Fireflash yawned, displaying a mouth the size of a cavern. "We'll talk more later, okay?" Then he curled into a ball and began to snore softly.
Arista, Severus, and Drake tiptoed away, leaving the recovering dragon to his well-deserved rest and his dreams of ostrich steaks racing across the Texas panhandle.
A/ N: Well, what did you think of this new turn of events? Are you getting nervous yet? Any thoughts on who's behind this?