Dragonfriend (41 page)

Later, they soared over the deeps in profound silence.

The Dragon rose into the skies, his gemstone scales gilded by the sky-fires, which Flicker told them in dragonet mythology signified the eyes of the Great Dragon. Grandion laboured aloft until at a height of two and a half leagues he reached a Dragons’ Highway, a jet stream of such a wind as Hualiama had never imagined. Despite being protected by his magic, in which the Tourmaline Dragon cocooned Lia and Flicker from the effects of the extreme altitude, the wind snatched her breath away. It picked Grandion up and hurled him westward so that they soon left Noxia far in their wake, screamed over Remia Island and its smaller, outlying satellite Islands at a speed of over fifty leagues an hour, according to Flicker’s calculations, and then arrowed toward the pin-sharp peaks of Horness Cluster at the same breathtaking velocity. A Dragonship could manage just three to four leagues per hour, Lia discussed with the dragonet. He just chuckled, making his eyes whirl with fire to express how quaint he found her idea.

A tick or two shy of five hours later, they descended upon Horness Cluster like a bolt of blue lightning seeking to blast the Islands asunder.

Lia and Flicker slept curled up in the crook of Grandion’s paw, alongside his neck.

T
he creak OF
a Dragonship’s rigging woke Flicker. Stirring, his eye-membranes blinked rapidly as he tried to process what he was seeing. His muzzle dropped open. Unholy monkey droppings!

The dragonet butted Lia’s cheek.
Hss. Straw-head. Stop snoring. We’re in trouble.

Rock me in your paw, Mama.
Hualiama chuckled in her sleep.

Flicker poked her with his talon.
Up. Think of something, o she of miniscule brains. Grandion! Couldn’t you have warned us?

“Sir, it’s a Dragon.” A voice carried clearly on the breeze.

“Ready catapults! Back up, Steersman! Take no chances, men.”

Grandion said something low and rude under his breath as his belly fires growled mightily.
I was sleeping too … shards take it! So many … Lia, do something. Quick.

Oh, so it’s up to me, you two pebble-brained reptiles?
Lia’s mental tone brought an image of an irate wasp to Flicker’s mind.

Leaping to her feet, the Human girl quickly scanned their surroundings, realising what Flicker had already determined with his penetrating intellect. An army of Dragonships had drifted in from the north during the night, but she and Flicker had been fortuitously hidden behind Grandion’s bulk as the Human fleet approached.

Of course, being a straw-head Lia wandered right out into the open and stood staring up at the Dragonships, coming in low over the trees, just forty feet overhead. A rope ladder dangled from the nearest vessel. A young, dark-haired Human officer dangled fifteen feet above the ground on that ladder, caught in the act of descending to investigate. He, too, gaped with a most unbecoming, slack-jawed, typically Human expression at Lia.

“There’s a girl!” he exclaimed, making Hualiama sound like the most astonishing sight in the world.

Well, Flicker could relate to that. She was astonishing.
Do your fluttering thing with your eyelashes, Lia,
suggested the dragonet.

Lia looked fearfully at what had to be four Dragonships’ worth of war crossbows with their giant, metal-tipped quarrels all trained on Grandion, and another three dozen Dragonships drifting down the breeze toward them. At least a hundred fighting men clad in brown leather armour, armed to the teeth with swords, javelins and longbows, stared down at them from the gantries abutting the Dragonships’ cabins.

I’ll burn them all,
growled Grandion.

From the corner of her mouth, Hualiama whispered,
No. Lie still, Grandion, and use your magic to look old.

The Dragon snorted,
What?

Old. Decrepit,
said Flicker.
Senile as a mouldy bat–

I’m going to start killing things any second!

Hush, just do it,
said Lia. Magic rippled as the Dragon deployed his wiles.

“Islands greetings, noble sirs,” she called, gaily. “What fair breeze brings thee to my little dell? Is that a flying bird machine?”

“It’s a Dragonship,” said the man.

“Ooh, I’ve got a Dragon.” Lia bounced up and down on her toes. Interesting, thought Flicker. A bit of jiggling and that poor man’s jaw sagged like a Dragon taking his widest yawn. “Look, isn’t he cute and adorable? I call him Grandion. It’s a bit of a silly name for such a timeworn, snaggletoothed beast–”

Grandion clamped his jaw shut. Still, fire leaked around his fangs and the roar of his belly fires was unmistakable.

“He sounds dangerous,” said the officer, looking Hualiama up and down with an appreciative grin. Flicker’s claws clenched. He would perpetrate a murder or two of his own if that carried on!

“He has the most terrible indigestion.” Lia gave the man a silly wave and fluttered her eyelashes, ignoring Grandion’s fang-grinding response right behind her. “Ooh, you’re kind of cute too. Do you want to come down and play with me?”

To Flicker’s fascination, the man’s colour flushed to a rich beet-red. Hoots of laughter sounded from the gantries of the Dragonships above as the soldiers relaxed; hands dropped from their weapons. A few began calling out ribald suggestions to the increasingly steamed officer. “Bring her up, sir!” “I want to play, pick me.” “Sir, why don’t we kill the Dragon?” “She’s a simpleton, you idiot.” “Simply volcanic.”

“Stand down!” he called to his men. “Where are you from, girl?”

Hualiama made a few small circles in the grass with her big toe as she gazed demurely up at the officer. “Just over there.” She flapped her hand absently. “Can’t you play with me? The Dragon’s nice. He’s two hundred years old and he tells nice stories, but he sleeps most of the time. I’m so lonely.”

“Oh, my Islands!” yelled one of the soldiers, from a Dragonship which was directly overhead now, casting a shadow over Lia. “Can I be lost on this Island, sir? Pleeeeeeeeaaassse?”

Another voice called, “Permission to shoot the Dragon, sir?”

“We’ll see plenty more Dragons at Fra’anior!” snapped the officer. “Stay at your posts. Stand down, but stay alert.”

Several of the men took to advancing creative ideas about the games they might like to play with Lia. The bold one shouted, “O beauteous maiden of the Isles, we are soldiers from the Yorbik Free Federation, and we’ll come back this way once we’ve finished making our demands of the Dragons at Gi’ishior. Remember me, my suns-shine! My name is–”

“Attention, soldier!” A gruff bark silenced them all. “What’s the meaning of this? Giving away military secrets?”

The brown-shirted one protested volubly to the new arrival, an older Human man wearing golden bands on his arms that appeared to raise his status in the hierarchy. Flicker’s grin widened as the high one summarily ordered his inferior to take a double shift on the turbines to work off his excess energy. His Lia could certainly provoke these Human males! A flick of her wings, a spark from those fiery green eyes … any Dragoness could take lessons from this one.

Then, golden-bands leaned over the side of his vessel, scanning the scene with alert interest. “A feeble old Dragon and a girl … who happens to match the description of a lost Princess of Fra’anior?”

No fool, he! Flicker almost rushed over to Lia; he knew her so well now, he had no need to hear her heart bolting off like a startled lemur scenting a hunting dragonet, to recognise her dismay. A pause of wing-tearing horror ensued, the dragonet frozen, the Dragonship slowly drifting by, the hard-eyed man’s gaze fixed upon Lia.

Her face screwed up in apparent endeavour. “Where’s franor … frilly … frallior?” When no-one answered, Lia kicked a tuft of grass with a petulant cry, “Mean boys! Nobody wants to play with me.” She stomped off a few steps, muttering crossly.

The senior man shook his head. “Nah. No chance.”

Lia was doing an excellent impression of a thumb-sucking Human youngster Flicker had once seen while snooping about their dwelling. Ah! Now he saw the twin suns. She imitated a Human hatchling, playing to their natural instinct to protect their younglings. Smart girl. And brave, keeping her fires banked while she dealt with the danger.

Gold-bands called down, “Girl, Dragons are dangerous creatures. You should take more care. Now, wish us well as we fly south to treat with these treacherous beasts at Gi’ishior, for they have been ravaging our Islands and people.” Straightening up, he bellowed at his men, “The job of soldiers is to protect the innocent! We are moral men, soldiers of the Federation, neither dogs to pillage and despoil where we please, nor men who murder the elderly and vulnerable, be they Dragon or Human! Move out!”

Hualiama waved and blew kisses to the men on the Dragonships as the fleet puttered by overhead, collecting sundry offers of companionship, marriage and even the Jade moon. When they had vanished over the low hills to the south, she sagged against Grandion’s flank.

The Tourmaline Dragon took a playful nip at her knee. “Snaggletoothed, eh? Cute and adorable? And you, dragonet–did I hear the words ‘mouldy bat’ trip off your tongue?”

Flicker said, “So, Lia, exactly what kind of
playtime
were you envisaging with those soldiers?”

“Ooh, aren’t we jealous?” She tickled the dragonet under the chin, to his irritation. “So what if I thought that officer was cute–”

Flicker and Grandion snapped at her simultaneously.

Hualiama’s rich, joyous laughter rippled over them. “Now we’re both acting jealous? Boys–not boys. Oh, Islands’ sakes. Flicker, you told me to flutter my eyelashes. It worked. Grandion has no holes in his hide. We learned some valuable intelligence. Ra’aba’s plot gathers pace and the Humans are starting to respond.”

“Intelligence? You imitate a straw-head all too well,” sniffed Flicker.

“You were brave,” said Grandion, with an arch look at the dragonet, who ruffled his wings and made a disgusted noise. “But Lia is right. War is imminent. Each of those Dragonships holds fifty Human soldiers–I calculate there are up to two thousand two hundred soldiers of Yorbik on the move, a grave threat. The only boon we have in this situation is that Sapphurion is a voice of integrity and reason.”

“And will these Humans support us against Ra’aba?” the dragonet asked.

Lia shook her head. “I know the politics well enough, for a royal ward. When King Chalcion was loud and very drunk a few months ago, I remember him shouting about the Free Federation, how they cared not for who sat upon the Onyx Throne, that we were all slaves and puppets, Dragon-lovers and worse. But if we know Ra’aba in the slightest, we know he will find a way to turn this to his advantage.”

“In our culture, being a Human-lover is about the worst slur imaginable–a mortal insult, we Dragons call it,” said the Tourmaline Dragon. “Curse words. Even treating one’s slaves well was frowned upon. Beat them, starve them, eradicate one or two on occasion by way of keeping the rest in line … it’s hard to believe we Dragons behaved that way. But Razzior and his kin are still of that opinion. Humans are lice, parasites, a plague to be scorched off the face of the Islands. Some follow him openly, others merely believe it in their hearts.”

“As in, fleas and armpits?”

Hualiama’s tone was surprisingly sharp. The dragonet’s eyes flicked from one to the other, wondering what he had missed.

The Tourmaline Dragon lowered his muzzle, a remorseful orange fire leaching into his eyes. After a long pause, the Human girl stepped closer to the Dragon. She hesitated over a decision Flicker did not understand, before spreading her arms as far as she could reach, and resting her cheek against the small scales beside his eye. A tremor seemed to pass between them.

Lia whispered, “I guess fleas can’t be all bad, can they?”

His paw engulfed her back, tenderly cupping her tiny frame. “No.”

Time stood still for the dragonet, his seventh sense tingling with a new insight. At last, he understood the nature of the magic between his companions. This was a power that promised to stand the Island-World upon its head. This was magic worth dying for.

Yet, sorrow damped his fires. Did his Lia know that when they found her family, it must end? Should his daughter misbehave, King Chalcion would ride to war against the Dragons–no question about that. Nor could any Human ride Dragonback and live. No Human could draw this close to a dragonet or a Dragon, for every paw and every hand would be raised against them.

The Island-World was not ready for such a miraculous magic. It would lash out and destroy them before allowing their magic to take root.

Yet, it was beautiful. And neither of them knew it.

* * * *

From the sharp-fanged black Isles of Horness Cluster, the trio travelled ever southward, following the snaking ridge beneath the Cloudlands, topped here and there with Islands peeking shyly above the cloud cover. Most were too low, too close to the poisons down below to contemplate as a stopping-over place, but they perched one night atop a column of rock just fifty feet wide, a second night upon the flank of a constantly spitting volcano, and the third, a goodly distance down the flank of the Western Isles at the latitude of Rolodia Island and a hundred leagues or more north of Naphtha Cluster.

Having been chased into shelter by a massive storm, they waited it out in the shelter of an old Dragon roost, while the winds shrieked a dreadful song and the rain poured so mightily that they could scarcely see five feet outside of the cave mouth.

“Once this blows over, our search truly begins,” said Grandion.

Lia did not even pause her Nuyallith forms as she replied, “I say we’ll find them between Naphtha and Ur-Tagga. Flicker?”

“Exactly two hundred and fifty-seven miles south of Naphtha,” chirped the dragonet. “Lia, do you remember that morning when we sang and you danced upon Grandion’s back? I sensed the fire of magic in your dance. These Nuyallith forms you practice are also a channel for the inner fire. If you learn to release your power through those blades, or release their inherent power …”