Wings of Renewal: A Solarpunk Dragon Anthology Read online

That was Chataya's favorite part, when the darkened sky lit up, and day ruled the night. That's when the festivities really began. When tens of thousands of people gathered from all over to sing and dance. When music filled the air, and Chataya could drink sparkling sangria until her head spun and her tummy felt near to bursting. Parades marched down the main streets, one after the other, with people playing drums, and troupes dancing ancient dances. Paper dragons and leopards floated through the air on wooden poles.

  She wanted to punch Luan all over again for goading her like that. She watched Sol, wishing against all hope that she could have a glow dragon for her own. One she could pet whenever she desired. And more importantly, one that Luan could not.

  Sol was the only known glow dragon in the long history of her people. Most people weren't even sure they existed, believing that perhaps she was some strange fluke of evolution. There were many legends of them, sure, but no one had actually ever seen a glow dragon in the wild in living memory.

  Chataya would bet her first-born child there was a whole tribe of them, somewhere out there.

  And that was the problem. No one remembered how the chieftainess's ancestors had acquired the dragon. She had been in the family for generations. Centuries, as some would tell it. Sol could be older than the forest itself, for all anyone knew. Chataya's great aunt once insisted the dragons lived deep in the heart of the jungle where there wasn't much sun, where fools went to die. They lived with the Great One, a giant tree dragon that was as old as the jungle itself, maybe older. With branches that stretched up into the sky, to kiss the sun. She claimed the sun fell in love with the Great One, and from their union sprouted the glow dragons.

  “I'm surprised you actually listened to your father.”

  Chataya jumped. Luan smirked from the stairs. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair tousled as if he had just come from dancing. Which he probably had, that jerk.

  “What do you want?” she grumbled, settling back down onto her elbows.

  “I thought you'd be out in the field. You love the Solstice.” He came to stand next to her. He smelled of sangria and smoke, and she hated him a bit more.

  “I'm banned, remember?”

  “Like that's ever stopped you from doing something.”

  “And what about you? I thought you'd be down there with your mother,” she said. And the dragon. She looked wistfully at the field, where she could just make out Sol, now perched atop a giant pole decorated with flowers.

  “Nah,” he said with a smile. “It's far more interesting up here.”

  Chataya rolled her eyes. She glanced at him, and couldn't help the smile that formed at seeing the black eye covering half his face.

  “How's your eye?” She didn't even try to hide the annoyance in her voice. Or the satisfaction.

  Luan laughed, and angled his face so she could see her handiwork better. “Does it make me look more handsome?”

  Chataya scoffed, her cheeks reddening. She cursed herself.

  “No? Well, I suppose I deserved it.”

  “You did.”

  “Oh Chataya, you don't really want to hit me again, do you?”

  She did. But his eyes were so bright, she thought as she glared at him. She bit her tongue before an apology slipped out, and tried to think of a way to change the subject naturally. She didn't want to think of her and him. Not now, not while she entertained thoughts of wringing his stupid neck.

  “Have you ever wondered if there were more of them?” She tried to keep it casual, but she could hear her heartbeat pick up, betraying her excitement.

  “More of what?”

  “Dragons.”

  “There are plenty of dragons,” Luan said, sweeping his hand out to show the butterfly dragons. They had resumed their courtship, their wings glowing bright in the gloom.

  “You know what I mean.”

  Luan sighed and settled his arms on the railing. He gazed out to the field, where his family's dragon made slow, lazy circles over the crowd. “I think there must be. But why haven't we seen them yet?”

  “There are theories on the Heart. That they live there with their mother.”

  Luan shrugged. “Honestly, no one in my family remembers where we even got Sol. For all we know, he came from a land far away, whose name has been lost to time. Or he's extinct, the last of his kind.”

  Chataya pursed her lips. “I don't believe that.”

  “You don't want to believe that.”

  She cursed Luan silently for knowing her so well. “What of the legends? Why do we have them?”

  “How do we know they didn't originate because of Sol?”

  “I think they're out there. Somewhere,” she said stubbornly. Many things were said to reside in the Heart of the forest. Water dragons and jaguars as large as oxen, as black as the night. Nymphs, half girl, half fish that will drag you under and force you to be their husbands. Or eat you. Ancient spiders as big as houses that could commune with humans. Their webs were said to have healing properties; it could stitch skin back together and leave it as smooth as a child's.

  Some of these she knew were tales. Bedtime stories for children. But others, well, she wasn't so sure.

  “Well, then perhaps you should go looking for them.”

  Perhaps she would.

  * * *

  The more Chataya thought about it, the more she wanted to find the dragons, and maybe—maybe—claim one for herself.

  Chataya spent the next week planning. She didn't tell anyone what she was doing, because well, everyone would think her nuts for actually wanting to wander into the Heart, and most would try to stop her. Especially her parents. She avoided Luan as much as possible. He'd know instantly what she was up to.

  She poured over maps of the jungle, but precious few had any information on the Heart. Many of them simply had a giant swath of trees, and maybe a painting of a dragon, suggesting the jungle was full of them. Most of them though were unimaginative and just drew a skull and crossbones.

  She wondered if she was as big of a fool as the intrepid explorers before her. She would risk it though. Even if she didn't manage to catch one, she had to know if they existed.

  Judging by the maps, the Heart of the jungle was about a week's journey down the river. She'd pack enough food and water for three weeks to be safe. Her bow and one of her father's knives went into the pack as well as all the maps. If she were going to the Heart, she would need to be practical about it, and there was no way of knowing which maps were right, and which were wrong. As her grandfather always said, the swiftest way to death was through foolish actions. In went the first aid kit, blankets, a solar lamp, and some back-up cells. Now all she had to do was wait for everyone to go to sleep.

  * * *

  Chataya rose early, before the rest of the village awoke. She slipped on her shoes, grabbed her bag, and snuck out the door. On the balcony, she stopped and looked over the railing, checking to make sure no one was up and about. If someone saw her and alerted her father, her mission would be done for. She'd be punished for shirking her duties, and it would be ages before she'd be able to sneak out again.

  Night still had a firm grip on the land. Chataya made her way carefully down the path to the river. The docks were quiet. She could hear the faint sound of the guards talking farther down as she walked to her father's boat. The glow of their solar lamps was already fading in the mist. Her father's boat was moored a bit upriver, which was fortunate because that's where she needed to go.

  She hopped into the boat and immediately began unmooring it. Heart hammering, her hands struggled to get the knots untied in the dark. The guards would begin their rounds again any moment.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Shit,” Chataya muttered and turned around. She glared at Luan, and the stupid smug expression on his face. “Judging by the fact that you're standing here, I'm sure you already know. And keep your voice down.”

  They both glanced over at the guards, who thankfully still hadn't noticed them.
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  “I'm coming with you,” Luan whispered, and threw his packs into the boat.

  “Why?”

  “Because I want to. And I'll wake the entire village if you don't let me.”

  Chataya sighed. “Fine. Help me with the ties.”

  When they were finished, Luan pushed off and jumped, gracefully landing in the bow. Chataya started the engine and guided the boat out of its spot. Luckily, the boats were silent, running on solar energy. They could easily sneak away without any noise to alert the guards.

  They waited until they had gone around a bend in the river before turning on the solar lamps.

  “So, what's the plan?” Luan asked.

  “Get to the Heart.”

  “That's it? I assumed you had something better than that.”

  “That's just the beginning of my plan. Look.” She fished through her pack to bring out the bundle of maps. She'd written notes, and had hand-drawn a couple of the most likely paths she should take based on the books. “I mapped out a few different routes.” She spread them out before Luan. “Based on the information we have on the Heart and the glow dragons. I admit, it isn't much, but it's enough for a start. Our best chance for finding them would be there.”

  Luan rifled through the pages for a while, silent in his study. Chataya's body skittered with nerves. She kept checking over her shoulder for a pursuing boat. She wondered if the guards had noticed her father's boat missing, and mentally calculated how long it would take to raise the alarm. She made the boat go a little faster.

  “Why the Silent River?” Luan asked finally.

  Chataya turned back around to look at him. “Because it's less traveled.” It was well known that the beasts of the jungle stayed away from the places humans frequented. They were less likely to be hunted and killed that way.

  “It's less traveled for a reason.”

  “If you were a dragon, where would you be?”

  They turned up a tributary a few miles from the village. The sun was still a few hours from rising. They passed sleeping villages, the tree line dotted with the occasional lights of those afraid of the night. The water here was deeper than the main river, but it wasn't as wide. Still, there was enough room for four or five boats to travel abreast.

  The first day was mostly uneventful. They passed fishermen from neighboring villages, and merchants making their way downriver to the bigger ports. Some waved, most ignored them, and they were content to ignore them back.

  That night they camped in a tree not far from the river. Chataya was awoken by something moving through the undergrowth. It rustled leaves, and huffed, as if it had picked up the scent trail of its next meal. She lay perfectly still, not daring to look down, her mind racing with thoughts of giant jaguars that could swallow her whole and of boars as big as houses. Instead, she focused on calming her heart. But it only stilled once the creature, whatever it was, moved on.

  * * *

  On the afternoon of the fourth day, they reached the deep jungle, where man rarely ventured. They were surrounded by the peaceful chaos of the wild. A family of howler monkeys had congregated by the river, causing a ruckus, and distressing the nearby birds.

  Something slid through the water to their left. Chataya's pulse quickened. She scanned the river, but everything seemed calm.

  “Could be a caiman,” Luan said.

  “I hope not.”

  Caimans could get rather large, and were notorious for flipping boats. She wondered if it had been a mistake to make this journey. No. She'd known the dangers when she left, and if she found her dragons, it would all be worth it.

  She caught movement under the boat and peered over the edge to see what it was. Something sleek, silvery, and huge slid by. Chataya gulped and took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart. It was just a fish. A big fish, yes, but just a fish.

  Suddenly, the fish shot up out of the water ahead of her, spreading its massive fins so they glimmered blue and green in the sunlight.

  No, not a fish. A water dragon.

  “They do exist,” she whispered.

  Luan reached for his bow, and drew an arrow out of the quiver. She slapped his hand.

  “If it wanted to eat us, it would have,” Chataya whispered through the corner of her mouth.

  He looked at her, lips pursed, but said nothing.

  Chataya went back to watching the dragon. If water dragons exist, then there was a very strong possibility glow dragons did too. Her heart soared at the thought as she watched the dragon swim up the river. It was about twenty feet in length, with a long, elegant neck.

  They floated together for some time. The dragon seemed content to leave them be. Maybe they don't eat humans, as the tales said.

  The dragon dived suddenly, disappearing under the tranquil waters, sending a ripple of waves across the river and rocking the boat.

  “Where did it go?” Luan asked, looking around. He reached for the bow again, and Chataya glared at him.

  She still didn't think it posed a threat to them, even as a small part of her worried that, in fact, it did. She looked down at her hand, clenching her knife, and wondered when she had picked it up. She took a deep breath in an effort to expel some of her fear.

  The dragon exploded through the water a ways off, a large clump of river weeds trailing from its mouth. It continued its lazy journey, placidly chewing the weeds.

  “It's an herbivore,” Chataya said with a sigh of relief. They laughed at themselves as they dropped their weapons.

  They parted ways with the dragon an hour later when it crawled up onto the shore and settled down in the grasses to sun itself.

  * * *

  “We've been traveling for ten days now,” Luan said. He studied the maps, while the boat cruised along on auto-pilot. Chataya sat glued to the prow, scanning the jungle with her binoculars for anything unusual. They hadn't seen another dragon since, and they were beginning to get anxious.

  They'd already bickered once that morning, and twice the day before.

  All the paths had proven fruitless, either leading to dead-ends or empty ponds. They ventured over land a few times, checking caves and thick groves of ancient trees, but there was no sign of another dragon; water, glow, or otherwise. Luan was convinced the dragons would be near water, based on how much Sol loved to swim in the river. Chataya remembered eating lunch on the bank of the river with Luan and a couple of their friends when they were younger. They would nibble on their lunches and watch Sol splash around. She reluctantly agreed.

  “Do you think we'll know when we've entered the Heart?” Chataya asked. She stared at all the x's on the maps, marking the places they tried and failed, and her heart sank a little. She was losing hope with each passing day. Maybe Luan was right, maybe Sol was the only dragon. Maybe she'd just have to content herself with catching a butterfly dragon. Or maybe, if she really felt desperate for a dragon, she'd have to marry Luan. He'd have to let her pet it then. But she wasn't counting on it.

  “Possibly,” Luan replied without looking up. “I mean, it's not like there'll be a sign announcing that we've now entered it or anything, but I do think there'll be a subtle difference.”

  “Like the sky suddenly getting dark and ominous.” Like her mood.

  “Like that,” Luan agreed.

  He smiled, and Chataya's stomach gave a little flip. Stop that, she thought. She still wanted to be mad at him, although with each passing day she was finding it harder. Underneath all that arrogance, he really wasn't a bad friend.

  “Our turn should be coming up.” He got up and went to the steering wheel. A few meters up river, they came to a small tributary that broke off the Silent River. The entrance was overgrown with vegetation. If they hadn't been looking for it, they might've missed it.

  “Will we be able to make it through there?” Chataya asked, worry creeping into her voice.

  “There's only one way to find out.” He turned off the auto-pilot, slowed the boat down, and began guiding it towards the narrow opening. They
had to duck to avoid being hit by the overhanging branches. Leaves scraped against the side of Chataya's face.

  The waterway was more like a deep stream. It was so narrow, Chataya could reach her hands out and touch the vegetation on either side. It was just wide enough for the boat to pass.

  “If it gets any smaller, we'll have to walk,” Luan said.

  Chataya nodded in agreement. She wouldn't mind. After sitting for so long, her legs were just aching to move.

  The stream didn't get narrower, but it certainly didn't get wider either. They spent half the day on that tiny waterway, pouring over the maps and books while they nibbled on their lunch. Towards dusk they lit the solar lamps, and Chataya's head filled with the mythological beasts of the jungle. They passed under a giant spider web, and she ducked down into boat, imagining monstrous spiders lurking in the trees just out of sight.

  But when they got closer, they saw that the spider was merely the size of her fist. Still large by any accounting, but far from big enough to eat her.

  A ways up, they rounded a bend, and Chataya's breath caught in her throat. The river opened up into a large pond hemmed in on all sides by trees that blocked out the fading sun. It gave the illusion they were sailing into a cave. The largest tree she'd ever seen dominated a small island, with branches that stretched into the sky far out of sight.

  Above them flew hundreds of glow dragons shimmering in the gloom. They flitted through the branches and skimmed lazily over the pond, their wings cutting through the water like knives. Luan slowed the boat, afraid of disturbing the creatures.

  One landed on the gunwale, oblivious to Chataya and Luan. It closed its eyes and seemed to nap. Its feathers were tinged with turquoise, which set it apart from Sol, who was more golden. Chataya inched towards it, hoping she'd be able to at least touch it before scaring it away.

  They made it halfway across the pond before the dragons started to screech and scatter, whipping about like an agitated bee hive. The dragon on the boat woke and took off, buffeting them with strong beats of its feathery wings.