Der Fluch der Aurelia Chapters 7-8: Enslaved; The Other Dragon Rider; Deep, Deep under the Sea

Now we get a chapter from the point of view of Kupfer – as we will have to call him, as the book doesn’t tell us his real name.  He resents the fact that Cadoc Aalstrom, the man who enslaved him, can’t even pronounce his real name – but then, probably most human readers couldn’t either.  Since Kupfer is far more intelligent than his master, one of his duties is to create horrific-sounding hybrid creatures: lobster-cuttlefish, starling-drones, and copper-wasps, and even a manticore – for which Cadoc Aalstrom takes all the credit.

So how did Kupfer even come into his service?  Well, if a human discovers the existence of a copperman, then the copperman is under a curse to serve that human until death.  The only thing that can break the curse is – dragon fire.  I think we can guess where this is going – but as far as Kupfer knows, dragons have disappeared.

So Kupfer, as the reluctant minion of a villain much less intelligent than himself, has obvious parallels with Fliegenbein in the first book.  I hope that, like Fliegenbein, he will be able to escape.  However, I don’t expect that his story can work out in exactly the same way – after all, if being discovered by a human automatically means slavery, then meeting Ben and his family or any of their other human friends isn’t likely to constitute a happy ending as far as Kupfer is concerned.  More likely, he will disappear into the coppermen’s network of underground tunnels and take care not to be caught by a human again.

Incidentally, Kupfer’s process for making hybrid creatures involves spitting into the mixture of cuttlefish spawn and lobster larvae.  It is a running theme in this story that the saliva of magical creatures has magical powers.  In the first book, spitting in a pool is one way to activate it to use it as a means of long-distance communication, spitting into a cup can even provide enough liquid to allow Nesselbrand to teleport to another body of water in another part of the world, and kobold saliva is astonishingly sticky and could even be used to make Nesselbrand’s metal-armoured body susceptible to dragon-fire.  In the second, pegasi are oviparous and the mares (but only mares) nourish their eggs by licking them – which causes problems when the only surviving pegasi are a stallion and his late wife’s clutch of eggs.  And, here, coppermen’s saliva seems to have its own powers.

In an earlier post, I described Kupfer as an ‘elemental’.  This word doesn’t actually appear in the text – but in a book themed around the four classical elements (Earth, Air, Fire and Water), it is intriguing that we have a character who seems to be an embodiment of a chemical element, like Order of the Stick’s titanium,  chlorine, and gold elementals.

And yet – weirdly, Kupfer is described as feeling the sound of the Aurelias’s singing ‘in his rust-red blood’.  I’d have expected a being made of copper to have blue or green blood like Spock and some arthropods and molluscs in real life.

Now we return to the Rim of Heaven, where Ben and Lung are making plans to travel to the place on the Californian coast by which the Aurelia is expected to surface.  Lung has ‘a decisive role’ to play in the mission – and it seems to me that the word ‘role’ comes up a lot in this book.  Lung, after all, needs to play the part of the representative of Fire when Aurelia comes, and they will need to find other beings who are suitable to represent Air, Water, and Earth.

In subsequent chapters (okay, I’ve read quite a bit ahead before posting this), characters frequently ask ‘what role does that play?’ to mean ‘what does it matter?  What difference does it make?’  Sometimes words jump out, like the frequency with which the word ‘betray’ comes up in the first two books, whether in the literal sense of being a traitor, or in sentences like ‘The twitching of Tattoo’s ears betrayed his excitement.’  Without being a native speaker of German, I can’t be sure how much of this is deliberate and significant, and how much is just common phraseology.

At this point, at any rate, roles are important in a different way.  Specifically, as Maja explains to Ben, Schwefelfell’s role as Lung’s oldest friend, someone who had been an important part of his life long before he and Ben met.  Now, when Lung is not only friends with a human boy, and married to a dragoness, but also the father of three hatchlings, the baby dragons are taking up the little time that Schwefelfell could have had with Lung before.  So, at Maja’s suggestion, Ben agrees to travel to California by aeroplane with his father, so that Schwefelfell and Lung can spend some quality time together on their own journey over there.

This is a situation that has been brewing since the first book.  After all, it had started out as a story about a dragon and a kobold on a quest, and Schwefelfell had expected to be the wise one who could warn Lung away from danger, as she had lived in a human town and knew how dangerous humans were.  But as things had turned out, not only did Ben have a lot of good ideas (for a start, unlike Schwefelfell, he knows how to read a map), but everyone was excited about the coming of ‘the Dragon Rider precisely because friendship between a human and a dragon is so rare. 

As Schwefelfell had pointed out at the time, she had been riding dragons all her life, but nobody thought this was significant, because it’s normal for kobolds and dragons to live together.  In some media, kobolds are even related to dragons.  The kobolds in the Dragon Rider universe, however, vary from cat-like kobolds like Schwefelfell

and the many-armed Himalayan dubidai
to leprechauns 
nisse 
duende
and hobgoblins, and the sea-serpent in the first book also mentions the klabautermann.

The next chapter introduces a new group of characters: mermaids.  Of the two adult mermaids organising a school trip for orphaned merchildren, Laimoni is a normal-looking Hawaiian mermaid: that is to say, she has a scaly green, fish-like face, wide-set eyes, protruding lips, and no nose – and, judging by the illustration at the start of the chapter, hair that resembles seaweed. 

By contrast, her friend Lizzie looks like the carved figureheads on sunken ships – or in other words, she looks like the average human’s idea of a mermaid, a human woman down to the waist with a fish-like tail.  Considering how much Funke loves to subvert people’s expectations of a fantasy species –her dragons are peaceable and nourished by moonlight, her werewolves transform permanently into a wolf unless they can halt the transformation in time – it’s not surprising that she would go in for Our Mermaids Are Different in a big way. 

But anyway, Lizzie Persimmons had survived after all, because Laimoni, the mermaid she had rescued from Cadoc Aalstrom’s net, had in turn rescued Lizzie from drowning by placing one of her own scales into Lizzie’s mouth to turn her into a mermaid.  Like saliva, scales are significant in this universe.  In the first book, Barnabas has a few lost scales from Nesselbrand, and gives them to Ben – which enables Ben and his friends to test how to melt Nesselbrand’s armour.  In the second book, Lung deliberately removes one of his own scales and gives it to Ben, so that Ben can communicate his emotions to Lung when they are apart by touching the scale.  This implies that, ironically, in stories where an apparently villainous dragon has a single vulnerable spot through which the hero kills him, the dragon must be one who had once loved someone enough to make himself vulnerable to them.  And here, Laimoni’s scale has both saved and transformed Lizzie’s life.

This chapter has lots of lovely worldbuilding, starting with the ocean depths, far beyond the sun’s rays, which should be dark – but aren’t, because of the many luminescent animals down there.  As Lizzie and Laimoni, along with their lanternfish friend Koo, take out the six oldest of the ‘merlings’ they look after on a journey to explore a deep ocean cleft, the narrator explains that they had fed the children algae for breakfast to make them glow red, so that any animals they passed would assume they were poisonous and not attempt to eat them.  The children chatter excitedly to each other, not in sounds (since the ocean is too noisy, between the roaring of waves and the song of whales) but by electrical signals and flashing bioluminescent patterns.

I am managing to learn more words from their context here than I could from a dictionary.  My dictionary gives Tintenfisch as the catch-all German word for any cephalopods, be they cuttlefish, squid or octopus, but this story shows the merfolk considering the risks of being hunted by Kalmare (squid) and Oktopus.

The adult mermaids have a difficult task in teaching the children balanced life lessons, between telling them that, ‘The only thing to fear is fear itself!  Courage gives you armour!’ and having to warn them that all evil comes from above, whence even more horrible things than giant squid, such as anchors and nets, descend.  They know that one day these children will swim to the surface and discover that the sun is really real, and encounter the terrible danger of humans – but at least they can try to deter the children from straying for as long as possible.

In the meantime, the expedition into the sea valley reveals something none of them had expected – a vast sea-monster surrounded by millions of dancing lights, and singing a wondrous song to which not even whale-song can compare.  Laimoni gathers the children to lead them back to the sunken ship where they live, but Lizzie – who, of course, has recognised the Aurelia for what she is – asks Koo to transmit a message for her through electrical signals:

‘Naia to Fufluns!  She sings where Momi sleeps! Direction hikina.’  Which is cryptic enough to be incomprehensible to any but the right recipient.

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