Dragonfriend (12 page)

Her body was too buoyant! Hualiama tried to pull herself back down as she floated toward the surface.

The fire expired upward, smoke curling hungrily over stone.

Now was the time for silence. No splashing. She must still her heart’s thrashing. Gripping a rock with her hands to provide a modicum of control, Lia delicately raised her face out of the water. She forced herself to ignore the burning in her lungs as she allowed overheated, smoke-filled air to trickle in.

She heard a groan from deeper in the cave. “Oh … burned …”

Flicker? He was imitating her?

“Ah, Princess. Not dead yet?”

The cavernous rumbling of the Dragon’s fire stomach warned her. Gulping half a breath, Lia ducked again as a sunburst of Dragon fire streamed into the cavern, a fiery breath so powerful and sustained that she saw the surface of her pool begin to boil. A dull reverberation conducted through the water to her ears, the thunder of his attack.

The fire lasted an unending time as Lia desperately schooled her lungs and limbs, denying the desire to breathe. She had to stay hidden. Had to! Even if she slowly boiled underwater …

* * * *

Flicker crept deeper into a crack between the rocks, away from the Human skeleton he had planted in the corridor at the Ancient One’s suggestion. He stilled his breath. His hide was scorched, his lungs seared and his concealing magic deployed in full force.

The Orange Dragon bellied down the tunnel toward his position, his spine spikes scoring lines on the tunnel roof. The Dragon stopped when he spotted the charred skeleton.
Ah, Princess, it ends here,
he declared, visibly satisfied.

By the First Egg, please let his girl remain as silent as a hunting dragonet. How long could straw-head remain underwater? The Dragon backed up with excruciating deliberation, unable to turn in the tunnel due to his great bulk. Flicker damped his fury. He wanted nothing more than to scream,
Murderer! Egg-stealer! Hatchling-killer!
But if the Dragon detected his emotions, or heard his hearts-beat … his subterfuge seemed to have worked. How had the Ancient One known? Did he have the power of visions, similar to what Lia had described to him when she spoke of the Star Dragon, who must have taken refuge in this very cave? Could the Human girl have envisioned Istariela and Fra’anior?

Such power, vested in a frail Human body. Unprecedented, the Ancient One had professed.

Outside on the ledge, the Orange Dragon thundered a challenge of earth-shattering power,
IT IS FINISHED!
And straight afterward, so whisper-quiet that Flicker wondered if he had imagined the words,
The prophecy is broken.

The swish of his huge wings, blasting dust back down the tunnel, confirmed the Dragon’s departure. After waiting as long as he could bear, Flicker darted back up the tunnel, squealing,
Lia? Lia?

He wheeled on his wingtip into their cave. There, in the water, floating as if dead! The dragonet dropped on her stomach; Lia surfaced in an explosion of bubbles, coughing, laughing and exclaiming crossly at him.

Are you alive?
Flicker worried.

Do I look that bad? Flicker, what was that? I …
She thrust her fist against her mouth, her eyes wet with more than water. Lia’s shoulders began to shake.
Why does everyone want to kill me? Why?

Hush, softly now,
said Flicker, speaking as to a wounded hatchling.

He was just like Ra’aba–exactly the same eyes. I don’t understand.
Her eyes rose in a mute appeal the dragonet knew he could never answer. In those smoky green depths, he saw what squeezed his chest–an awareness of mortality, fresh and raw, as if the Dragon had scored them both with bloody wounds. She seemed soul-haunted.
I don’t understand, Flicker,
Hualiama repeated.
Can Humans and Dragons share the same spirit? How did he know I was here?

The dragonets of my warren must have tattled,
he replied, as her words provoked a disturbance in his Dragon senses. Could this be true? A vengeful spirit of Ra’aba?
Look, one thing is good in all–

“Good?” she shouted, making Flicker squeak and flare his wings in panic. “What could possibly be good about this? I’m being hunted by Dragons, Islands’ sakes, and I’ve no idea why! I’m stuck on this stupid Island–”

Hush. We need to be certain he’s gone.

Aye.
Though her eyes still registered distress, Lia reached out to stroke his neck.
Flicker, I’ve no words to thank you enough. You’re the best friend a girl could want.

You saved my hide,
he muttered, rubbing his muzzle with his forepaws.

At least I’m clean, now.
Lia rose from the water, standing hip-deep in the small pool as she clearly cast about for a way to put her fright behind her. Flicker would have done the same.
Well, our food is all cooked, we’ll need a new bed, and I guess I’ll be weaving another sling after this. How did you misdirect that Dragon, Flicker? You’re so brave, so resourceful …

“Islands’ greetings, my name’s Lia,” said Flicker, affecting the dragonet version of a sultry pout.

Hualiama’s mouth dropped open. “You can imitate me that well?”

“Well, yes,” he smirked, emboldened by her reaction. “I am the Princess Straw-Head of Fra’anior, and my burned skeleton is lying just outside in the tunnel.”

By way of reply, Lia puffed out her chest, imitating one of Flicker’s favourite postures. “And I am an overgrown, brainless parakeet with a head stuffed full of feathers. Aren’t I the handsomest creature under the twin suns?”

His howl of laughter came accompanied by a plume of fire.

* * * *

Late that afternoon, the Yellow moon eclipsed the waning suns and the atmosphere grew dim, despite the day’s lingering warmth. The cliff-larks, lesser blue parakeets and swarming crimson-sparrows cheeped sleepily outside. Digging through the cavern sand with her toes as she worked on her fifth sling in several weeks, Lia sliced her left big toe open on what she took initially for a sharp stone.

She unearthed a flat shell–no! Lia gasped and brushed the dirt off the Dragon’s scale. It was old, dusty and white. As white as the Dragoness in her vision.

Despite its evident age, the scale was still dagger-sharp. She cleaned it in the pool and dried the shard carefully on her brief skirt. Wow. Now the colour was pearlescent, more than merely white, like the inside of the shells she had once seen which came from the terrace lake on Gi’shior Island. Seeing how the light played upon a Dragoness’ scale, it was easy to believe in magic. It was less easy to understand how her dream could have been so accurate.

Magic? Of the two great races of the Island-World, Dragons had magic and Humans did not–apart from persistent rumours about the warrior-monks of her own Fra’anior Cluster, Hualiama reminded herself. Even King Chalcion had never succeeded in pinning down the truth about Human magic. Secret monasteries, even more secret practices. Even a King could not know all.

No, little Lia possessed no magic. What she did possess was a nose with an uncanny ability to sniff out trouble–oh, and the less helpful ability to land in that trouble right after she scented it! That was how she knew Flicker would embark on one of his midnight escapades later on that night. This time, she would follow him.

Meantime, she worried endlessly about why a Dragon should be hunting her. Surely Ra’aba was not working hand-in-glove with the Dragons? Surely, they had no interest in a royal ward apart from the sin of her trespass on their holy Isle? But she was unable to discount her intuition that the mighty Orange Dragon had been Ra’aba, or was, in some undreamed-of way, connected to him. What did she truly know of Dragons? The Dragonkind had a deep-seated aversion to meddling in the affairs of those they regarded as inferior creatures. Very occasionally, King Chalcion met with Dragon representatives on the Receiving Balcony atop the Palace. When she was younger, Lia had sometimes spied on them, but after she had been caught and chastised by Captain Ra’aba, Chalcion had put a stop to that.

She could not possibly be a threat to the Roc, could she? Heavens above and Islands below, she had no weapons, no magic, no allies, no means of transportation between the Islands …

Despite her best intentions, Lia fell asleep waiting for Flicker to depart. Her dreams filled with the Orange Dragon’s fire, which morphed unexpectedly into the yolk of an egg-sac surrounding her body, and then unexpectedly to the image of a mother Dragon crooning mellifluously over her clutch of eggs, telling the developing Dragons inside how much she loved them, even though they were not yet hatchlings. Even in her dream, she frowned. Dragons spoke without words?

This Dragoness was a blue so fathomless it was almost sable, not the white of Lia’s previous vision. As a hatchling, Hualiama broke free from the egg-shard, milky with albumen, feeling the clutch of a paw so massive it enfolded her body like a new womb. She ached beyond reason or understanding for that brooding, maternal presence.

Mother.

She never wanted to leave such a sweet dream.

However, people must awake as people, no matter what their hearts desired.

Stirring, Lia found Flicker gone. She thrust the dagger into her linger-vine belt, and tied on a small lemur-skin pouch of supplies. On an impulse, she added the White Dragoness’ scale to the contents of her pouch. Cheeky dragonet. Time for him to give up his secrets.

Given the glorious crystalline formations of the caves, no light was necessary to aid her exploration, although Lia knew she needed to take care. Flicker would not have left any trail, unless he landed for some reason. On and on she wandered, searching galleries and marking side-tunnels, expanding her knowledge of the vast underground network. These caves must honeycomb the entire underside of Ha’athior Island. What mysteries might be hidden here, she could hardly imagine, but when she stumbled upon one, it was an enormous surprise.

“A library?” Lia whispered.

The narrow tunnel she had taken opened abruptly onto a tall, circular chamber, lit from above by a spectacular, branched crystal formation, so that it was almost as bright as daylight. The walls were lined for thousands of feet up and down with scroll-racks–at least, as far as she could see, for what she had assumed was the floor, was only a platform beyond which she saw further ranks of scrolls and books and even more platforms. Crystal lights burned lower down in the library. This cavern dwarfed the Palace library. It dwarfed the Palace itself.

She expected to smell musty, mouldering records, but there was none of that. Only fresh, clean leather and the tang of treated scroll-leaf, as though the library were regularly maintained and aired out by beings now absent. Her hand flew to her mouth. The scroll-stands stood fifteen feet high!

Dragon-sized.

A library of lost Dragon lore? What a treasure trove!

However, Lia could see no way of entering from where she was, unless she wished to climb down the shelves. That seemed sacrilegious, somehow.

With great reluctance, Hualiama retraced her steps. Where would a dragonet be hiding? She had already been walking for several hours, and had passed by enough gemstones to finance her father’s kingdom for her lifetime and a few more.

Finding several of her stone arrows, Hualiama jogged wearily along the trail to where she had previously found a dark place, which seemed unique in these caves. Her steps slowed as she began to hear a faraway thudding, a monstrous drumbeat which filled her with trepidation, and a gentle breeze brought the scent of the deep caverns to her nostrils. Now, this was more dangerous. She had no light, unless–yes. Picking up a fallen shard of luminous crystal the size of a decent sword, Lia advanced into the darkness.

She came quickly to the place where she had rested before. Her footprints were still visible in the dust. But here she saw fresh dragonet tracks, claw-scratches leading away into a tunnel to her right. Ha. She was hot on Flicker’s trail. Just wait until she caught that pesky runaway! She’d wring his sinuous little neck until he bawled out his answers. No more evasions. No more sneaking off at night and sleeping the days away.

“Dragonet steaks, chargrilled to perfection,” she muttered, flexing her fingers. “Spicy dragonet stew served with purple tubers. One cheeky dragonet stuffed and mounted for a trophy!”

Pressing on, Hualiama followed the twisting tunnel for another twenty minutes, losing the trail twice, before she broke out into a vast, dark space. Where were the crystal lights? Her little spar gave her just enough illumination to spy an enormous gorge to her left hand; she maintained a respectful distance from the edge. The drumming sound was louder and clearer here, and wind seemed to rush somewhere nearby, across the gorge, although no breeze ruffled her hair.

Lia cast about for the source of the sounds. Nothing, just the pervading, warm darkness within which … a presence brooded. She rubbed her temples tiredly. Mercy. Mortal terror followed by an evening’s spelunking? Not her smartest choice of late. Perhaps her madness had started with confronting Ra’aba. Did that not prove her brain was stuffed with pollen?

Lia delved in her bag, and bit hungrily into a juicy prekki-fruit. Delicious, the nectar of life itself.

The path led on across a cavern of unknown size, before twisting up into a maze of tunnels beyond. Was that Flicker’s voice? Hualiama paused, straining her ears. There, issuing from her right. She remembered to scrape an arrow on the tunnel she entered. The darkness was absolute, now, but she tracked the sound of his chirping through a short stretch of tunnel, guiding herself with a fingertip touch, every step ventured with care, before climbing a steep slope into an open space. The light in her hand suddenly illuminated the dragonet, perched on a spire of rock in front of a black wall.

… power of visions, o Ancient One,
he was saying.
There’s more to this Human girl than … Lia! What’re you doing here?

Lia snapped,
I might ask you the same question, you little runaway!

The dragonet seemed stricken. He glanced at the wall before replying,
I come here to meditate.