Dragon Airways by Brian Rathbone Read Free Book Online

throughout the field, but Brick could still get away. The more he looked around, though, the less he wanted to run. This was Forest's Edge. He'd found the rear line.
    A lanky man arrived moments later. "Who are you?"
    Brick was grateful for having had the time to catch his breath. "My name is Brick. I'm from Sparrowport."
    "And what has you running through the woods like a night spirit?" the tall man asked, looking down on Brick from what seemed an impossible height.
    "The Zjhon attacked Sparrowport."
    No one said anything in response.
    "They were trying to kidnap my friend, who flew away on a dragon, and I ended up on a balloon that crashed in the woods."
    "And why aren't you at the front?" the tall man asked. "You're certainly of fighting age."
    "I'm apprenticed to my father, the smith," Brick said, feeling guilty and not for the first time. "I was considered essential for the war effort."
    "So those parts that used to come in from Sparrowport were in part your handiwork?"
    Brick nodded.
    Another man approached. "Let me see your hands," he said.
    Brick held out his calloused, gnarled fingers that never quite came clean no matter how he scrubbed.
    "He's a smith all right, and he's from Sparrowport. I can see it in his hands and hear it in his accent. I think he's telling the truth, and that means the Zjhon are trying to keep us isolated, which certainly explains why none of our messages have been answered."
    "You said your friend escaped on a dragon," the tall, thin man said, a haunted look in his eyes. "Tell me about that."
    "The Zjhon were looking for my friend and her little brother, who has always been singled out for being different." This statement brought nods of understanding. This was something they had heard before, given the response. "I tried to stop them . . . but I failed. Before the Zjhon caught up to them, Riette and Emmet climbed into a carriage strapped to the back of a dragon and flew off."
    "So it's a girl," the man who'd inspected his hands said. "That explains it. You look a sight, my boy. When I was your age, I felt a lot like you look."
    "What else happened?" the tall man asked, his scowl never fading.
    "The Zjhon commandeered a passenger plane, and then one of their planes arrived. I boarded the balloon, hoping to run interference for the dragon, which didn't look very healthy to start with. I hit one plane with a . . . projectile, but things went downhill from there. I think I saw one of our planes as well, but it's all kind of a blur from that point on."
    Finally the tall man seemed satisfied and extended his hand. The other man retracted the pitchfork.
    "I'm sorry for the unfriendly welcome," the tall man said. "These are dangerous times. My name is Tellymore. People call me Telly."
    Though the man was no longer unfriendly, a pall of sadness and regret seemed to hang over his every breath.
    "Have you seen any dragons?" Brick asked. "Have you heard anything about Riette or Emmet Pickette?" The first question seemed to pain Telly, but he had to press on.
    "No," Telly said. "There have been no dragons here in some time. If there had been, I would most certainly know."
    "Did you lose your dragon in the war?" Brick asked. Reading people was not normally among his strengths, but this man's every inflection reeked of grief. He nodded in response. "I'm sorry. I have always wanted to do my part to fight the war. I feel guilty that I get to stay behind in the relative safety of Sparrowport while others risk their lives, as surely you have done. I am humbled."
    "Don't be sorry or feel guilty," Telly said. "Without the tools and parts you and your father have provided, we would not have lasted this long. Those within the Heights are good at providing big hunks of cast metal, but nobody forges gears of higher quality than Sparrowport.
    Brick wiped away a tear.
    "Is there another smithy in Sparrowport of which I am unaware?"
    "No, sir," Brick said. "Those gears are made by my father and me. Mostly my