Finding some paper destined for the fireplace, Peter made three paper airplanes. One folded lengthwise into a pointy triangle, one folded widthwise into a squarer shape, and the third a sort of origami bird with a tail added in. It wasn’t the best paper for the purpose, but it worked. He tested them.
Peter then proceeded to carefully split a piece of firewood until he had a thin strip of even thickness. After whittling it into shape, he held it over a boiling kettle until the lignin softened, twisted it, and placed a heavy block on top. He then remembered that wasn’t the whole design and set about making two more strips to bend into a circle. The other part of the mechanism was going to be trickier for him to produce, but he whittled a handle with a peg sticking out of the top and a short spindle. Twine was easy to get, but he needed an auger or brace drill to finish it.
While he was out shopping, he was going to need some candles, a thing cloth, and some wire if he could find it. Peter’s shopping trip was successful. More successful than he had expected. Taking his bit of cloth a meter long and half a meter wide, he folded it in half and sewed the sides. Dripping candle wax on the outside, he rubbed it with a rag. A simple wire frame suspending a dish for a candle sewed in and secured with wax had his third flying machine completed.
Finishing the second was finicky, but he managed.
He spent three days tinkering with these projects before Marla asked what he was doing.
“We’re stuck here unless we want to try and walk around the lake. We can assume that the other side of the lake is also aware of the dragon problem and therefore news is already travelling to the Capital. I’ve been constructing some flying machines. Models, essentially children’s toys, but they demonstrate concepts. I have a few more in mind, but they are more complex and even dangerous.”
“What have you got?”
“Well, these three are different types of paper airplane. Real airplanes are big; I’ve been in one that carried hundreds of people thousands of miles.” Peter threw them one by one, letting them glide around the room.
“You can build one of these big enough to carry three people?”
“Well, no. I mean, yes, but not easily. The bigger the airplane, the stronger the material it’s made from needs to be. The heavier it is, the bigger the wings need to be. The more weight you want to carry, the bigger the wings need to be. If we were up in the mountains, maybe that would be enough. Problem is, these ones fly because someone can throw them. Nobody is going to throw one with us in it. Some sort of launch mechanism is needed. Even then, once in the air you need to be able to control where you’re going.”
“Then what was the point?”
“Something to do. I made this much more complicated device, but it has less potential in this form.” He picked up machine number two, making sure the spool was on the handle and the propeller was seated properly on the spool. Pulling the string quickly caused the propeller to leap up to the ceiling and bounce around the room until it ran out of energy.
“I don’t see how that has any potential at all. A ballista can do as much.”
“Not exactly. This wasn’t thrown in the air, it lifted itself. Turned sideways and mounted on an engine, one of these can pull an airplane along fast enough to lift off the ground. I don’t have the resources to build an engine, though.”
“And what is this other thing?”
“That one is best to show you outside after dark.”
“We can do that later, then. You have other ideas?”
“Yes. One requires black powder. Everything else is just combining these three concepts. I know of other potential mechanisms but constructing them with the tools and materials available is impossible. Unless … what can magic do? Besides open portals between worlds, translate speech, and heal?”
“Just about anything you can think of. The hard part is finding someone who knows how.”
“Sounds like I’m in the same boat taking that route.”
“I’m afraid so.”
“But I could get lucky?”
“How so?”
“There might be someone here who does know?”
“Unlikely, but yes, possible. A town this size will likely have at least one magician.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Another option is to upgrade the local artillery to be capable of killing a dragon, but such weapons are difficult to aim and time correctly.”
“Kill a dragon? Do you know how hard that is?”
“Maybe. It could be easier than I think, it could be harder. Depends on what we’re calling dragons here.”
“You’re making my head hurt. I’m going to go deal with something I had already planned, but tonight we will go test your third flying machine.”
“Okay. I need a nap now, anyway.”
Peter and Marla walked down to the lakeshore under the stars. The feel of the rocks and sand under his feet was familiar and brought a smile to his face. Holding up his weird flying machine, he said “could you light the candle for me?”
“Is that why you made sure I was carrying a lantern?”
“I figured it would be the easiest way to light it.”
“Here, I’ll get a taper,” Marla said, digging in her pockets. Holding a stick in the lantern’s flame until it caught, she transferred the flame to the candle. “It’s an odd-looking lantern. You said it was a flying machine.”
“Machine is the wrong word, really. But it should fly in a minute. I’ve never actually made one myself, but cultures all over the world I’m from developed them independently. Some write messages and send them aloft to loved ones who passed, others just gather on certain holidays and release hundreds or thousands of them.” Peter paused, not sure what else he wanted to say. His flying lantern was starting to tug insistently. “Here it goes, I think.”
Letting go, he watched it soar up into the sky. So mesmerized by it was he that he forgot to look at Marla to see her reaction. He was smiling with honest joy, nearly vibrating with excitement at the success.
“Beautiful. Can one be built big enough to carry us?”
“Yes. We would ride in a basket hanging below. The balloon would need to be larger than a house and generating enough hot air to get it off the ground for any length of time would likely need more fuel than it could lift. There must be a way to control them, but I don’t know how. It is supposed to be quite the experience, though. Oh, but going up in a hot air balloon is usually done while the sun is up. This little one is more fun at night.”
“You built that to let it go, knowing you won’t find it again?”
“Yeah. Worse, it involves waxed cloth above a lit candle. It could start a fire wherever it lands. Or it could burst into flames in the air and drop.”
“What was that?”
“If it catches fire, it will stop flying and fall.”
“No, are those alarm bells?”
“Uh, maybe. Do you think I should have warned the guards that a mysterious glowing ball might be seen floating over the lake?”
“It sounds like a responsible thing to have done.”
“Well, I didn’t.”
“It’s unlikely they will trace it back to us,” Marla said, not sounding very confident.
“Is there anything it might be mistaken for?”
“Everything I can think of either doesn’t go so high, is a different colour, or moves faster.”
“People don’t like seeing things they can’t explain.”
“Yeah, but … wait, did you hear that?”
Peter cocked his head and listened. “Something big flying. I’ve heard ravens make more noise with their wingbeats, but owls twice their size can fly silently. Hard to say.”
As they watched, something quickly became illuminated by the floating lantern. To Peter it resembled a crocodile head, jaws wide. The jaws snapped shut on the lantern and flame billowed out between the teeth. The smoldering ruins of his lantern were spit out, there was a sound somewhere between a shriek and a grunt, with an effect like nails on a chalkboard, followed by a splashing sound.
Peter tried to unclench his neck and shoulders.
“Did you see that?”
“I’m guessing the flying creature with the head of a crocodile is one of our dragons?”
“Yes.”
“At least we know how big it is.” Peter did some math. The lantern had been just over a foot wide and tall. “Its jaws are nearly two feet long. If we know what they look like, we can extrapolate how big the rest must be.”
“You see a dragon for the first time and your first thought is to estimate how big it is? Not to run in fear?”
“Maybe if it had been closer. It was far enough away to be a curiosity.”
“You really are strange, you know that?”
“People say that where I’m from, too, so it must be so.”
“Maybe we should head back?”
“Yeah.” Just as they turned away from the lake and started walking, the sound of something moving in the water could be heard behind them. Not only was there a slow swish like something wading, but a steady drip as if something large had risen from beneath the surface. “That better not be what I think it is,” Peter muttered before turning.
Unfortunately, it was what he thought it was.
He was looking at what appeared to be a crocodile stretched to three times the length expected for the size of its head and given bat-like wings instead of front legs. It was hard to tell more than that in the dark, but he didn’t need to.
Having caught sight of them, it crouched into a position like a cat stalking a mouse. It slowly crept toward them.
“Marla, I think you’re faster than me. Could you run back to the barracks and get some help?”
“I’m not leaving you!”
“A minute ago you were commenting how unnaturally calm and analytical I was being in the situation. That is even more true now. If we both try to run, we’ll probably be torn apart. With me facing it, you have a chance. It may be big, but the fact that it flies suggests it isn’t as heavy as it looks. I should be okay until you get back.”
“Fine. It is a small one.” Peter heard Marla cautiously move away, and he sidestepped to remain between the dragon and her.
“You can leave unharmed if you wish,” he called out, not sure if there was a point. “You will regret staying.”
The dragon froze for a few seconds, blinked, and reared up like it was trying to get away from him. No, like it was trying to get a good look at him. It couldn’t see things close up. “Are you speaking to me?”
Peter’s turn to pause and consider. “Yes?”
“I didn’t know you creatures could speak! How interesting.”
“Interesting, indeed. If you’re peaceful, maybe you don’t need to be in such a hurry to go.”
“Why should I be the one whose intentions are questioned? I was attacked near here; my tongue still hurts!”
“You weren’t attacked, you chose to try to eat a lantern. The fire was hot, and you put it on one of the more sensitive parts of your body.”
“What is a lantern? How was I to know it was fire?”
“A lantern is an object we keep a small flame contained in so that we can see when there is no sun in the sky.”
“Oh, I think I understand.”
“Why are you here at the lake, riling up serpents?”
“It is fun and impresses my mate.”
“Could you do so away from our ships?”
“Ships?”
“The wooden things floating on the lake that we use to travel?”
“Why should I care about them?”
“Because there are people on them who get hurt, who die.”
“They are nothing to me.”
“Where is your mate now?”
“Minding our clutch of eggs, I hope.”
“Why not return to her?”
“Not without food.”
“Then why not go find food?”
“I have,” the dragon struck out, snapping at Peter’s head.
Peter had been hoping it wouldn’t come to it, but had suspected it might. He pushed sideways with one foot, just escaping the jaws. He turned to follow the head, and leapt on it, hugging the jaws shut as if he were trying to strangle it. He had to wrap his legs around its neck and hook his ankles together, too, as it started thrashing. Peter was too heavy; it couldn’t lift its head.
“Peter!” Marla shouted, leading two dozen armed men toward him. Killing it wasn’t nearly as hard as she had suggested it would be. They just jabbed two dozen spears into its throat.
Letting go, Peter rolled to the ground with a thud. His arms and legs were exhausted, even though it had only been a minute or two. Marla came right up to him and kicked his hip lightly.
“That was foolish! How are you still alive?”
“I was talking to it. The translation stone strikes again. Its mate is somewhere else minding a clutch of eggs.”
“Oh, wow. Are you okay?”
“I’ve been through far worse since I met you.”
“You do have a habit of finding trouble if there is any to be found.”
“I promise I don’t do it on purpose.”
“Come on, then. Let’s go back to the barracks. I could use a drink.”
“I could use a meal and a night’s sleep. It wouldn’t be hard to persuade me to add at least one drink, too.”
In the morning, Peter sat with Marla and Egbert to eat breakfast. “Now what? In theory the threat is over, at least temporarily.”
“How so?”
“The dragon that was harassing the serpents is dead. His mate is brooding with a clutch of eggs. She might leave them if she gets hungry enough, in which case she will likely attack anything she sees. Finding a boat that believes it’s safe now will be hard, though.”
“Maybe we will build your flying machine. Go north and find the brood mother, follow her back to her clutch. Kill them if we have to,” Egbert suggested.
“How long will it take?” Marla asked, looking to Peter.
“I don’t know. I might be able to build a model prototype in three days. We still need a way to get a fire that burns hot for a long time without weighing the craft down with fuel. A way to get the propeller spinning fast enough without needing to build a heavy engine that I can’t build anyway, too. I don’t know the limits of magic, but one or both might be possible. It would be nice to be confident the whole thing won’t go up in flames. Maybe instead of a basket I build a frame for a sling, but I don’t know.”
“What if we built your weapon instead, and left in the smallest boat we can? You said it would be able to kill a dragon.”
“Weapon?” Egbert chimed in.
“One option is basically a giant crossbow. The other … I don’t know how to explain it. Like a bronze or iron bell, about this long,” Peter held up his hands about a meter apart, “and for the creature I encountered last night, the bore would only need to be about the size of a finger. For sinking ships, you would want at least large enough to put your fist inside. Even if I could get that, I also would need to produce quality black powder and figure out how to ignite it. With the technology available, the cannon would all to likely to explode and kill or maim those operating it.”
“I’m sorry, what is this cannon supposed to do?” asked Egbert
“Launch an iron ball roughly the same diameter as the bore at several times the speed your bow can launch an arrow. Like throwing a rock. No, like when you smash a rock and a piece flies off.”
“What if we tried both? Build your flying machine and carry a cannon with us?” Marla asked.
“A small cannon would be easier to mount than the catapulta, sure, but aiming and withstanding the recoil in the air might be difficult.” Peter thought about it for a minute. “How about I make some sketches? Write down the needed tools and materials. The processes, even. Then I can delegate some of the things, especially the ones I can’t do myself, and focus on what only I can do. Give me a few hours, okay?”
“What do you need for your prototype?” Marla asked.
“Some seasoned lumber, sturdy canvas, and some wire, I think. Not really lumber, I only need it to be this big,” Peter showed the propeller disc he had made. “The important part is that it is as dry as possible. Oh, twine and a short, flat candle.” He held his fingers to indicate the size of a tea light.
“None of that sounds particularly difficult,” Egbert said, looking to Marla.
They left him in peace to draw out his diagrams. In duplicate, of course, so that he could have Marla translate the instructions and descriptions.
Four days later, Peter was carrying his scale model prototype down to the lakeshore for some tests. It was ridiculous looking. Could he have designed a simpler shape? Of course. But where was the fun in that? His creation bore a strong resemblance to a sea turtle.
In a stroke of genius, Peter used some twine to tie the basket down to four weights. He gave it enough slack to achieve proof of concept, but he didn’t have to worry about it getting lost.
Lighting the tea light was the easy part. Just when Peter was thinking his heat source wasn’t sufficient, the craft slowly rose to the extent of its tethers. He blew out the candle and gave the model airship a shove, and the wings were enough to keep it stable and glide, though it was difficult to judge as the tether caused it to arc down. With the fire lit again, Peter wound up the propellers. The torsion of twisted twine wasn’t the equal of elastics or springs, but it showed surprising promise. It chugged along in a circle.
“What do you think?” Peter asked Marla and Egbert.
“It’s impressive,” Marla said hesitantly.
“How big would the real one need to be?” Egbert asked.
“This was built to scale, so thirty times the length, width, and height.”
“A ship that sails on air?” Egbert asked, the skepticism clear.
“Pretty much. Like I said, it will likely take magic to make it useful.”
“I have some leads on that,” Marla said. “There are three individuals in town that do some magic.”
“This seems the most ridiculous plan we could possibly come up with. If it works, why not just make a run for the Capital instead of hunting the other dragon?” Peter asked.
“The threat is easiest to deal with now. It may be too late by the time we return,” Egbert said.
“I don’t know that I’d want to fly all the way there, anyway. Maybe as far as the other end of the lake,” Marla added.
“We’re really building this?” Peter’s companions nodded. “This isn’t as simple as teaching a smith to produce Akorkin Spirit Iron, you know.”
“I still don’t really understand how you did that, but I can’t believe it was so simple,” Marla said.
“You know how to make Akorkin Spirit Iron?” Egbert blurted.
“It may not be quite the same, but if there really isn’t any magic in it, yes.”
“We could be making incredible arrow heads, or spear points.”
“Back in the mining town, yes. Here, probably not.”
“Oh.”
“We need flat space about one hundred feet a side to assemble this thing. We also need fourteen hundred square yards of fabric and hundreds of feet of rope. Can that even be found here?”
“We’ll find out,” Marla said.
A week later, Peter was staring at the monstrous creation he had caused to come into being. The whole town had gotten involved, suggesting improvements and working faster than Peter could keep up with. They had even constructed six small brass cannons, capable of launching golf ball sized projectiles. The black powder they had produced was barely sufficient, but that was beside the point. There were more enchantments on his airship than he could keep track of, and he didn’t know what most of them did.
He watched as the fire was lit and the balloon slowly filled with hot air, inflating and lifting a little off the ground. Peter didn’t understand how, but it seemed the propellers were the easiest part to get working. He didn’t even need a magician on board. It was just a three-position switch for each one. There was a ships wheel that turned the massive tail rudder.
The sky turtle was lifting off the ground. It didn’t look like the anchors were going to hold it. Peter wished he was in the basket so he could extinguish the flame himself. How had this project gotten away from him? These people weren’t going on the flight, so why were they operating the airship during the testing?
Looking to Marla and Egbert, he said “How did we manage this? It is insane.”
“I don’t know, Peter, but we did,” Marla answered, not taking her eyes of the incredible sight.
“That’s enough of a test, is it not? Should we load provisions and set out?” Egbert asked.
“As far as I’m concerned, yes. But maybe we can let them play a bit longer.”
Still, there was a steady stream of people coming to witness what their community had produced. The fire was burned hot to lift, allowed to cool to settle back to the ground, over and over as curious townsfolk took a quick ride. It was quickly discovered that the capacity was roughly seven adults, though for their voyage it would be tight with just the three of them. They had to bring supplies, too.
A big celebration took up the rest of the afternoon and well into the night. Peter avoided it, hiding in his bunk. He was dragged out for an appearance and the start of the feast, but he managed to escape. Not that he got much sleep while the party was still going.
In the morning, the three of them boarded the Sky Turtle, which had already been provisioned. Waving to the townsfolk, they untied their tethers and sailed out over the lake. Steering wasn’t as intuitive as expected, of course, as the air currents were determined to have their way with them. Peter learned quickly, though.
It was hard to believe just how fast The Sky Turtle was. With the propellers going and the airship at the right elevation to take advantage of optimal winds, they were within sight of the opposite shore in under an hour. Peter wasn’t certain of the logic behind going straight that way instead of following the coast, but Egbert was a much more experienced hunter than him.
They didn’t see any sign of the dragon that day, nor the next. It was another week before they located her. There was an unexpected complication.
She was three times the size of her mate.
That she perceived the airship as a threat was clear. She leapt into the sky with a squawking roar and headed straight for them. Egbert had taken to the cannons with surprising ease. He already had one loaded. He was able to aim straight at the dragon without having to worry about leading his shot. Peter watched as Egbert lit the fuse, plugging his own ears.
The detonation shook The Sky Turtle. The screech and sudden veering of the dragon, accompanied by her drop in altitude, suggested she had been hit. Egbert tried three more shots, but it was hard to tell if she took further injuries.
Too late, Peter remembered the plan. “We were supposed to follow her back to her clutch!”
“Where do you think she’s going?” Egbert shouted back.
“She could be leading us away,” Peter suggested.
“Her eggs are probably somewhere defensible. It’s likely she doesn’t think we’ll follow.”
“Well, she has landed now.” Peter and Egbert turned to where Marla was pointing. For such a large creature, she disappeared among the rocks awfully quickly.
Struggling to maneuver the airship to scour the ground, it took nearly an hour to locate the dragon. Peter did his best to hold their craft still as Egbert fired one last shot, then brought them down nearby. Extinguishing the fire and dropping anchor, Peter followed Egbert.
A loud hiss announced they had been spotted. She was still alive. “I didn’t want it to come to this,” Peter called out. “Especially once I knew your kind were intelligent. But your presence here is too disruptive. The danger to the people in nearby towns is too great.”
The dragon was watching Peter, much the same as her mate had looked at him. “I did not know your kind could speak,” she said.
“That’s what your mate said, too. I suggested he leave, but he chose to try and bite my head.”
“You have already killed him, then. That is why he hasn’t returned.”
“I didn’t kill him. Well-meaning guards killed him so that I could get away.”
“As good as, then.”
“I regret it, but yes.”
“I am too wounded to care for my young. Please, protect my eggs. See them grown.”
“If it is within my power, certainly.”
Egbert chose that moment to leap from his hiding place and ram his spear into the dragon’s throat. She shrieked a long, horrible sound, and laid down, thrashing. Egbert finished her off. Peter looked for the eggs and found three. They weren’t much larger than ostrich eggs.
“What are you doing?” Egbert asked.
“Her dying wish was that I protect her eggs and see them grown.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I know it isn’t a good idea. Maybe they can be relocated. Maybe there is a zoo in the Capital. I don’t know. But I’m taking them with us, unharmed.”
“Fine. I’ll finish things here; you go back to the airship with your prize.”
Peter wasn’t sure what Egbert meant, but he was a bit sickened from being so close to something being killed. He left, gladly.