VII: Leap of Faith

It was such a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the wind still blowing from the south, bringing along a fresh salty smell. If it wasn’t for the improvised gallows on deck, Laurence would have probably been in an excellent mood.
But he wasn’t. Nobody was. Not only had they failed to bring the egg in time to Bermuda, they were about to lose the dragonet as well.
She had not spoken a word since last night, and refused to eat. According to Keynes she had to be starving by now, considering the fact that dragons were born hungry and had to be fed immediately after hatching.
Powys still hoped she would choose another captain, and kept sending men to see her. But she ignored them all, just as the meat the laid out for her. Keynes guessed she would lest another day or two without food; after that it would be a lost cause.
So they were going to hang Elleanora, and soon lose the dragon as well. This whole mission was a disaster from the start, Laurence thought bitterly as the beating of the drums started across the deck.
He straightened himself, along with every other man present; both crew of ship and dragon were there to witness the hanging.
Beside him on the dragon deck, Temeraire growled.
Under normal circumstances Temeraire hated executions, but now Elleanora had turned out to be a former member of the Aerial Corps, leaving behind a dragonet who would starve itself to death after the hanging of its chosen captain, it was even more difficult for him to understand the human ways.
She was being led onto the deck, limping even more than the day before. Guards at both sides, arms tied in front of her. Despite the fact her face was heavily bruised, she had found some of her old pride back; she walked across the deck with her chin up. Even when the first seamen started booing and spitting at her, she refused to look down.
Next to him, Temeraire roared. It startled everyone, including Laurence.
‘Is it not enough she will die?’, the dragon said angrily as he sat up, displaying his full length; even the crewmembers who had been working on dragon transports for decades stepped back in fear of the beast.
‘My dear, calm down’, Laurence said pressingly. ‘It will be over soon.’
On deck Elleanora nodded respectfully to Temeraire, and the dragon apprehensively lay down.
‘Right…’, Captain Bristow said as they positioned Elleanora in front of him, eyeing Temeraire sceptically. ‘Elleanora Grey, also known as Elleanora Black, you are to be sentenced to death for your crimes.’
A listing followed; while they were at it they had added desertion and treason to her record.
When he was finished, Bristow asked: ‘Is there anything you wish to add?’
A depraved grin appeared on her face. ‘I once killed a man in Cape Town for steeling my shoes. Does that count?’
Bristow stared at her for a second, then penned down something on the piece of parchment he was holding. ‘No repentance whatsoever’, he murmured.
‘All right, let us begin’, he said when he was done, and added dryly: ‘Or finish, if you will.’
They positioned her in front of the main mast, while the bells were struck, and were about to put her head through a strap, when a loud noise came from one of the doors that led below decks. Then the dragonet appeared in sight, followed by Emily Roland.
Laurence had ordered Emily to stay below decks with the dragonet on purpose, and for a moment he was afraid she was here to make a scene. It was however the dragonet who took care of that.
‘Where is she?!’, she screamed, again scaring the men around her by changing colours rapidly. Emily courageously fell to her knees beside her, clinging to the dragonet’s neck in an attempt to keep her quiet; it didn’t work.
‘Where is she?!’, she screamed again, even more panicked.
Laurence was already on his way; down the steps, through the crowd.
‘Captain!’, Emily shrieked when she saw him. ‘I’m sorry, captain. I tried to hold her back, I swear.’
‘All right, all right’, Laurence hushed as he kneeled beside her. ‘Let’s just get her back inside – ’
Behind them a man shouted for help. They heard something that sounded like a brief struggle, something soft clashing into something wooden; then a shakily Bristow yelled:
‘Get her! GET HER!’
But by the time Laurence was back on his feet, Elleanora was already gone. She had somehow broken free from her captives, gotten rid off the ropes around her wrists and ran towards the railing, but was cut off by the men standing there. Behind her, Bristow and his guards gathered themselves.
She had only one way to go: up. Before anyone could grab her, she jumped for the ropes hanging from the mast, and started climbing. Immediately several men started the pursuit, but it seemed Elleanora’s many years at sea had paid up: she was about twice as fast.
Laurence wondered if she would also be faster than a bullet; beneath her on deck, Bristow’s men aimed their rifles.
‘Captain!’, Emily exclaimed beside him; the dragonet was gone. She had scrambled upon the dragon deck, never taking her eyes off Elleanora. She didn’t even see Temeraire until she bumped into him at full speed.
She lay in a tangled heap before him, wings awkwardly twisted around her. It took her a moment to untangle herself and fold her wings to her sides again, only then looking up at Temeraire.
Instead of staring in awe at the enormous beast in front of her, she yelled:
‘Do something! Help her!’
Temeraire looked a bit surprised at the dragonet, whose colours were by now not just a reddish orange, but such a bright shade of red it was hard to look directly at her.
Temeraire seemed to think about her request for a second, and then Laurence was there to order:
‘Keep her close, Temeraire. And nothing more.’
Above them, Elleanora had scrambled halfway up the mainmast and was now dangling from a rope that led to the mizzen near the dragon deck. A shot was fired; the dragonet shrieked and wanted to dart forward, but Temeraire held her back carefully.
After it was clear the shot had missed its target, Elleanora scrambled forward even faster, reaching the mizzen just as a second shot was fired. This time it grazed her arm, leaving a bloody mark.
But it did not stop her; as a few brave men were climbing towards her, she looked down at the dragon deck below. Laurence knew what she was thinking, and was just about to tell her not to do it, searching for words to convince her she would never survive the fall, when Temeraire moved his wing.
It was such a subtle movement only Laurence noticed it; everyone else was only minding Elleanora. But even though he saw it, he could hardly believe his eyes.
Elleanora took the opportunity with both hands and dropped herself; the wing broke her fall, just as Temeraire had intended, and she scrambled up before anyone could get their hands on her.
Temeraire acted as if he was reaching for her, conveniently holding back Elleanora’s pursuers in the process. Only when he realized what she was about to do, he froze.
As the men poured onto the dragon deck with their weapons drawn, Elleanora heaved herself upon the railing.
For the second time in forty-eight hours, she stood on the verge of a great depth. Only this time, she jumped.
‘No!’, the dragonet screamed as she darted forward; Temeraire reached for her, but he was too slow for the small creature. She ran faster than Laurence would have thought possible and then flung herself over the railing, immediately disappearing out of sight.
‘Dear God’, Granby grasped beside him; Laurence hadn’t even noticed his presence through all the commotion.
For a moment everyone stood still in perfect silence. Then Laurence ran forward.
He felt as if the whole ship was in the middle of a storm; his legs were shaking so violently. By the time he reached the railing he was about to be sick.
He peered over.
Calm. The sea was calm. Look. Look, damn it!
‘There!’, he yelled, his voice not yet entirely steady. ‘There they are!’
And there they were: two tiny figures in the ocean. The dragonet had landed much further from the ship than Elleanora, as if she had unintentionally glided through the air after her jump, and was now trying desperately to keep her head above water.
A man next to Laurence aimed his rifle at Elleanora, who was still within range. ‘Are you mad?’, Laurence barked as he slammed down the weapon. ‘Can’t you see what she is trying to do?!’
She was swimming towards the dragonet as fast as she could, and only reached her just in time; the hatchling clung to her in pure exhaustion, and now Elleanora had to fight for them both.
‘Laurence!’, Temeraire yelled behind him; he was already halfway overboard. In three steps Laurence was there, throwing himself on Temeraire’s back.
A cold wave struck Laurence from the front when they hit the water, paralyzing him for a second. But he held on and Temeraire started to swim.
The dragonet’s red skin was like a beacon in the night; within seconds they had reached them.
‘Take her!’, Elleanora gasped; Laurence reached down and took over the shivering dragonet from her.
‘Come on!’, Laurence yelled after he had put the dragonet in his lap and reached down for Elleanora; she was clinging to Temeraire, but did not reach for his hand.
‘I’m sorry, I can’t’, she said trembling. ‘It’s over, I’m sorry.’
And she let go. Immediately the dragonet wanted to jump back into the water, but she was weak from cold and hunger and Laurence held her back with ease.
Elleanora started swimming away from the Resistance and Temeraire, nothing but the open sea in front of her.
‘Laurence…’, Temeraire said softly, as if he hoped Laurence would order him to save her.
But Laurence didn’t. He couldn’t. It was so cruel to watch her die like this, but he knew it would be much crueller to save her. At least this death she had chosen for herself, he thought as he watched her struggle. At least she wouldn’t die on her knees.
‘Is she alright?’ Powys yelled from aboard the ship.
Laurence was just about to tell him his daughter was not alright, that she was fighting for her life and would at any moment loose, when he realized Powys was referring to the dragonet.
And suddenly – finally – he knew what he had to do.
Elleanora was still swimming away from them. He could see her getting tired, her movements more stiff; any moment she would go under.
‘Go’, Laurence whispered. Temeraire turned his neck to look at him, as if he could not believe what he had just heard. ‘Go!’, Laurence said a little louder and with more certainty; Temeraire looked back in relieve and excitement.
She disappeared under water a moment before they reached her. Temeraire started feeling around for her, eventually even sticking his head under.
In his lap the dragonet pressed herself against him, shivering and crying in despair. Then Temeraire came back up, with Elleanora clinging to his claws. He held her above water, in the warm sunlight, and she coughed and heaved heavily. But she was breathing, at least.
Temeraire held her close to Laurence, who dragged her on the dragon’s back. She fell against him, too exhausted to move, and he put his arm around her.
As Temeraire swam back to the Resistance, the dragonet curling up against Elleanora with immense relieve, Elleanora looked up at Laurence.
‘You should have let me die’, she said weakly, and leaned against him. He could feel her warm tears against his neck as she started to cry.

He laid her on the dragon deck and the guards came forward immediately.
‘Not so fast’, Laurence ordered; before anyone could respond Temeraire curled himself around Elleanora and the dragonet.
‘What in the world do you mean by this?’, Powys demanded as he stepped forward, his cheeks red with anger; he reminded Laurence a bit of Riley.
‘I have a proposition’, Laurence started.
‘A proposition?’ Powys made it sound as if Laurence had just invited Bonaparte over for tea.
‘Without the girl we will lose the dragonet’, Laurence said, ignoring the tone in his voice.
‘Are you sure?’, Bristow asked as he joined them, his expression serious.
‘Very’, Laurence replied. ‘Kill her now, and the dragonet will die from starvation within a day or two. She has clearly made her choice.’
‘This is outrageous!’, Powys exclaimed in disbelieve. ‘You think of me a fool?’
‘A fool would be the man losing a dragon so valuable only to save his own pride’, Bristow said without any fear or shame to Powys before Laurence could respond.
‘My own pride, you say?’, Powys said angrily, but not nearly as furious as Laurence had expected him to be. ‘She is a traitor to our country! A deserter! Never in the history of Britain has there been a person who deserved to hang more than her!’
‘And yet she is our only hope at keeping that dragon in the Corps’, Bristow immediately fired back. ‘You still think you can convince that dragonet to choose another captain, even after witnessing this display? Even I can see it is far too late for that. Now I may not be an expert, admiral, but that dragon is special. Have you not seen what she can do? Think of the possibilities!’
Laurence almost slapped Bristow on the shoulder out of sheer joy, for the Naval captain had gotten Powys exactly where they wanted him; the shimmer in his eyes told Laurence the admiral was already thinking of ways to make the dragonet useful.
‘She cannot be trusted. She will betray us’, Powys said brusquely after a moment, remembering Elleanora.
‘We will have to keep a close eye on her’, Bristow said.
‘She will convince the dragon to help her escape’, Powys fired back.
‘We will have to trust she will act in the dragon’s best interest’, Bristow answered calmly.
‘Trust her!’, Powys said mockingly, but he was no longer as fierce as before, staring over the ocean covered in thoughts.
‘Tell her,’ he said after a while, ‘that she is to do exactly as we say, or she will be hanged right after we send that beast of hers to the breeding grounds.’
Laurence could hardly oppress a smile. ‘Very well, sir, I will.’
Temeraire, still growling at the armed guards standing near, lifted his wing only enough to let Laurence squeeze himself in.
Under the cover of his wings, so close to his body, the air was hot and damp; Elleanora’s hair was still dripping, but she looked warmer. So did the dragonet, who had taken its own colours again and lay curled up in her lap; Elleanora had put her arms around her in a loving embrace.
‘You okay?’, Laurence asked worriedly.
‘What is the meaning of this, Laurence?’, she asked anxiously, and Laurence realised she had not been able to hear a single word from his conversation to Powys and Bristow.
‘I think I worked something out’, he said.
‘Worked something out?’ She didn’t understand.
‘They are not going to execute you’, he explained, and when she looked at him suspiciously he added: ‘You and the little one just have to join the Corps.’
She started to laugh, but stopped when she realized he wasn’t joking. ‘Never’, she said fiercely, getting some of her old stubbornness back.
‘She will die without you, Elly’, Laurence said softly, looking into her eyes in persuasion.
‘It goes against all my principles’, Elleanora replied, still shocked.
‘You have principles?’, Laurence asked in exaggerated surprise, and despite everything she answered his smile.
‘I guess I don’t’, she said after a moment, softly.
‘Good’, Laurence said, and he sat back in relieve, watching the girl and her dragon. ‘You still have to name her’, he said after a moment of comfortable silence.
Elleanora took a deep breath and looked down at the drowsing dragonet.
‘Dawn’, she then said as if she had made up her mind a long time ago. ‘I will name her Dawn.’
In her lap, Dawn shivered and opened her eyes.
‘I’m hungry’, she said, and turned yellow.