Resurrection Dawn

by Marc Secchia

Chapter 19

  Standard 1301.07.18 Estimated – the lair of the Dragon.

  THE DRAGONS SANG AS they flew westward. Although the sound was ebullient, her misery hit depths she had thought impossible. Regular draconic wing-slaps congratulated one another on their grand achievement of snaffling up a small green snack, as the flight of Dragons climbed toward the top of the great golden tower. Alodeé lay in the thick layers of netting and steamed. Robbed of her weapons and especially her parachute pack, she knew there would be no leaping into the unknown this time.

  Betrayed. What a wonderful feeling. What had she been thinking, playing and swimming with those canny Lightning Pygmies while the Dragons snuck up on her? Not only had this ruby-red outsmarted her, he had made her look like the most gullible idiot in history while doing it.

  Dragons ruled this realm.

  The red beast did not even bother to carry the netted, trussed captive. He delegated this duty to a pretty, auburn female, whose scales had deeper red, golden and purple highlights gleaming within their facets. Peering through the thick lattice, she tried to stay observant. Maybe there would be a detail, an insight, that would provide an opportunity for escape.

  Maybe if I can flap my arms fast enough – you ugly mug! Where are you taking me, huh?

  Mister Red twisted his neck to glare at her. GRRR!!

  Listen if you want, slug-face. I don’t –

  GRROOOAARRRGGHH!!

  Grief. He really was hearing her think, wasn’t he? Or could he smell her emotions?

  I’m more than you imagine, my friend. You’ve no idea what you’re dealing with.

  This time, she had the satisfaction of seeing the red’s massive wingbeat hitch visibly. Dangling the net from one paw, the auburn female cuffed Alodeé with her free paw. Oof. Like being slapped with a handy boulder, or running into an Oraman full tilt.

  You, on the other paw, outshine the very sun! she lied – not lie in terms of content, but certainly far more sarcastic than could possibly be considered wise. To her surprise, the female’s chest swelled, while a number of the other Dragons expressed their displeasure with snarls and flame licking out of their nostrils.

  Hmm. Division might be possible.

  With powerful wingbeats, the Dragons surged skyward, as if chasing the setting sun. A fall from a tenth of this height would be fatal. She had not noticed before, but the top of the tower was shaped like a lantern, a bulge broken by immense golden columns supporting arches that allowed entry to the greatest of flying creatures. Dragons stood like sentinels around the periphery.

  Her vague hope stemming from not being stomped upon immediately faded. This smacked of organisation and governance. They must be taking her to meet their leader. Justice would be dispensed as swiftly as the flash of one of those talons.

  The great golden column had to be half a klom in diameter. She saw further colonnades within, hiding the interior. Dragons swarmed about the place – to her surprise, the arrival of an insignificant Humanoid created a great stir. They winged in to land as the sun slipped behind the western mountain range. Her net was not gently laid down. Ouch! Same shoulder, yet again. Hurt like the blazes. The Dragoness promptly dragged her along the polished crystal floor, which was not at all as painful as it was humiliating.

  Catch of the day. Yay. Come enjoy, every Dragon.

  Not that she bore meat enough to satisfy even one of their beastly appetites.

  They wound between the columns toward the centre of this space. She noticed more Dragons appearing from holes in the floor, which must lead to different levels deeper in the complex. Although there were more colours of gem-like scales than she had words for, gold predominated – a rich, luminous gold, as if these Dragons were walking treasure hoards lit for display. All had two wings. Not one of the adults was smaller than 25 mets in length; some were considerably larger. She saw several of the gleaming golden serpents relaxing in a pond recessed in the floor. Oh! They were Dragonkind, too?

  At the centre, in a great circular space bounded by columns and roofed with splendid artworks carved into the living crystal, stood three plinths – just a couple of mets tall, but they functioned to separate the leaders from the rest, she assumed. Behind the golden lattice of netting, Alodeé’s eyes grew round. One was a Serpent of pure gold, wound up into a pile of coils no less than 18 mets high. The other two leaders were a gold and a silver Dragon respectively – the silver must be female, she thought, unsure as to how she drew the distinction. Both lounged comfortably atop a gold nugget each the size of Dad’s AVACS; they were hoary with age and wisdom and –

  Freaking colossal!

  Three sets of eyes locked upon her net.

  Your Draconic Majesties, she thought, much more reverently. Shudder!

  Fluting a note that hung in the air like a bell, the silver female flicked a talon lazily. Clearly that meant, ‘unwrap the captive,’ for she was summarily unrolled and dumped out on her head.

  Alodeé squirmed to her feet. Alright. Enough with the snarky thoughts and sarcasm. This was her life she chose to play with. Gathering what few shreds of her courage she had left, she bowed toward the throne area. Unfamiliar as the gesture was, she knew it meant something, in the histories at least. The ruby-red Dragon promptly gripped her in his paw, crushing her arms against her sides. Marching up to the trio, he fluted something acerbic and dumped her before them. When she made to rise, a red talon pressed her flat.

  Great. Now to the grovelling part.

  The voices of these Dragons were like nothing she had ever heard before; part bells, part basso flute, often lilting with expressive harmonies that she realised must signify additional communicative nuances. Incomprehensible, of course. The patently annoyed red made his case. Sounded like, ‘So, I found this stinking rat trying to raid my mate’s nest! She let her go, but I figure she led those carnoraptors right to our kids – so, shall we dispense with the formalities and just hack her head off? Besides, she thinks rude thoughts about me all the time.’

  At several points, the listening Dragons – numbering in the hundreds now, Alodeé realised with a shudder – gasped or growled in evident consternation.

  Then, the incredible light swelled from beneath, blinding her. Everything stopped for a sing-song that would have lifted her scalp off her head with its bravura ambiance, save that the ruby-red stood on her back to prevent her from going anywhere while he belled sonorous notes that shivered the very air with their beauty.

  Can’t … breathe, please …

  He crushed down harder. Please! “Please, let me up!” Alodeé struggled with all her strength, but he was a big, unimpressed bruiser.

  Starved of oxygen, she faded.

  * * * *

  Songbirds argued nearby. Something knocked on a door inside her head. Excitable chirrups sounded … beneath her stomach? Four little voices, keen to hear her respond.

  “Alright, kids …”

  Er, maybe she should try waking up. That hot nose prodding her hip bone was no child.

  Alodeé found herself slumped like a wet dishrag over the emerald Dragoness’ knuckles. That was also the only thing that kept her from being blinded by the golden light pouring so effusively up through the column and all around her. She experienced a weird, out-of-body moment when she feared she might have died and entered some peculiar form of afterlife. Her exposed skin prickled feverishly, making her feel itchy, twitchy, never more alive.

  Four of the dragonets clearly still thought she was distilled awesomeness. The fifth, the platinum beauty, hung back around Mama’s paws, clearly most undecided about this vegetable who talked.

  Still not dead? What under the planetary rings were they waiting for?

  Hold on. Her brain struggled into Thrust Level 1. If all the dragonets were alive and Mama was here too and she had yet not been served up lightly grilled on Dragon toast, then – her incredulity swelled.

  What the blazes is going on? Some torture more devious than anything I’ve imagined so far?

&nbs
p; To her further shock, the great golden Serpent reacted to her thought by bursting into Dragon laughter. His mirth boomed forth like a thunderstorm.

  As the radiance faded, she was able to take in his expression. Not totally comforting. After a few more fluting notes between the behemoths, the four-pawed golden Dragon poured down off his plinth to approach the emerald Dragoness. He spoke majestically yet gently to her, ending up tapping Alodeé on the head as if to make his point.

  Silence.

  Every Dragon held their breath.

  Turning to her, the Dragoness’ long throat worked. “A …”

  Alodeé blinked. “Er …”

  “Ahh …”

  A syllable! Might these creatures be capable of her kind of speech? She could not fathom the Dragoness’ weird behaviour. Again, the huge throat worked, showing her the rich orange tints hidden in her emerald scales. Oh, the dragonets all had the four-winged body shape. She glanced about curiously. Mama Dragon and kids. No other Dragon appeared to have been blessed with the extra wings. Mama’s wounds had been treated; they looked scabbed over. Even her own shoulder felt oddly improved after that burst of light. Interesting. Now what?

  The Dragoness fluted, “AAHH – LOO – DEEE?”

  Three syllables she had never imagined rang about the chamber like the sonorous clangour of bells. It took her forever to string them together and arrive at a meaning.

  “Alodeé? That’s … me?” she croaked. “How … how did you? What?”

  “ALODEÉ?”

  Heat imploded inside her chest. Violet eyes. Green hide, flecked with rich, beautiful red-orange highlights. No way!

  “Isss … yrrr … Alodeé?”

  She knew this voice.

  “Mom? No, no – what? Who are you? What the freak?”

  What was she even thinking? They must have read her mind. That was the only explanation.

  Great as she was, the Dragoness made a soft, crooning noise as she bent over the girl seated upon her paw. Her other paw rose to clasp her heart. Softly, she sang, “Isss … SAAHH – MOO –”

  “No. NO!” She leaped to her feet, yelling, “This is a – a sick joke! You cannot be my mother! She died twelve years ago, in a fire. No, lady. This is not real. It’s … impossible.”

  A Dragoness who thought she was her mother.

  Shaking and panting with rage, Alodeé found herself lowering the clenched fist she had just shaken beneath an enormous green nose. They stared at one another, her and the Dragoness – who looked taken aback, almost sorrowful. Her eyes dropped to the little emerald dragonet. Her scaly twin. Exactly her violet eyes, her skin colour, everything. Yep. Only, that was a Dragon and she was Humanoid … and Class U … and could the unknown characteristics of her Class possibly get any creepier than this?

  No. This was not happening. No!

  Only, what if that sense of connection in the grotto had been something real?

  Too much.

  She curled up in a ball on the floor, a quivering, weeping mess. Shocked. Numb. Disbelieving. How could she even look into those eyes? Squeezing her eyelids shut upon hot tears, she choked out, “You’re really Samodeé?”

  A rustling like wind through trees passed around the assembled Dragons.

  “AHH-MM SAMODEÉ.”

  “Samodeé,” agreed another voice.

  You’re reading this straight out of my mind! she accused. You abandoned me!

  Voices rose in fluting conversation. She realised that the silver Dragoness must have come down from her plinth too, in order to comfort the audibly distressed emerald Dragoness. She made a choked-off, crooning sound, rustling her wings as if she longed to rush to – to this creature she claimed for a daughter. Alodeé could not think beyond the burning in her mind. Mother. Mom. Samodeé. How could she be alive – resurrected from the fire? How could any of this be happening?

  She pressed her temples. No. Yep. NO! She must be insane; that was the only explanation.

  Carefully, a voice throbbed, “Dyee-moond?”

  Another pang! When would this end? Why did they keep hurting her? They must be reading her thoughts, her deepest secrets, straight out of her mind.

  She groaned, “Dad’s … alive.”

  How could anyone, any creature, fake something like this?

  A silver talon slipped beneath her neck, raising her gently. Flutes and bells. Here she went. Hesitantly and with many errors, but with increasing confidence, the green Dragoness translated:

  “She-our-sister came to us damaged, alone and broken. By the glorious starlight of Dyshaulu, we believed her mind touched by spirits of –” the Dragons discussed this for a moment “– spirits of ravaging fire. She recovered in body, but never recalled her life-that-was-before. Even as a foreigner among us – as you observed, young stranger – she has always been made welcome, a true Dragoness who stands among true Dragons. One is who nobly wished her to mate, the majestic Sanhukahn of Ruby hue, who did become close. However, discovering her already with egg, he did instead offer wing protection over this female, according to the laws that bind all Dragons.”

  If they didn’t mate, she thought dazedly, then where had these five young sprung from? Her head throbbed. Dragoness. Mother. Her mother was dead. Deader than dead. The generator explosion had vaporised her. The end! Or not?

  This creature believed she was Samodeé. They shared the same unique colouration. She claimed to have memories awakened by her arrival in that grotto. All of these Dragons, clearly, believed her every word.

  Madness!

  “Without knowledge of the sire-of-eggs, Samodeé bore, as you see, five fine, healthy dragonets according to the mahinzak of – that’s like a body pattern, but more,” the emerald Dragoness explained quickly, “her draconic subtype. We, the Guardians of Dawn’s Radiance, have no others among us of her mahinzak; we know not from whence she came. She testified of your strong paw’s retribution against those who ravage the younglings. Having informed us that the fire of your spirit awakened in her a trace of pre-fire memory, she bade Sanhukahn of Ruby hunt you unto the Council, here, with all swiftness.”

  Red talons tapped over the floor. The male Dragon’s voice rose in anger, rising almost to thunder as he spat fires above her bowed back.

  She had insulted him.

  Before any Dragon explained, Alodeé thought deliberately, Sanhukahn of Ruby, I wronged you in thought and deed. I abase myself in shame.

  The Dragons paused once more, palpably shocked. Maybe it needed more? She had no idea what kind of gesture might communicate culturally, so she did the first thing that popped into her mind. Crawling to his paw, she lowered her forehead to the scarred knuckle of his scaly talon.

  Set this one thing right, first of all. Deal with the rest soon. Sanhukahn of Ruby, I am sorry. I was alone and afraid and very far from my kind. I feared you meant to slay me.

  He snorted as if he considered that an excellent idea.

  The carnoraptors were chasing me.

  “The … carnoraptors … eat everything,” Samodeé said. “This is no fault of yours, Alodeé. Your actions spoke all.”

  “How do you understand me?”

  “Your mind speaks,” the silver Dragoness explained, via translation. “You don’t hear?”

  “I don’t.” But if I think –

  “We hear,” Samodeé confirmed. “They don’t understand your words; I barely … it’s like the words and their meanings are lost in fog. I struggle, but it’s coming back. The Dragons understand your emotions, tone and mental – posture, I think you’d say. Alodeé, please … won’t you come to me?”

  “I can’t. Mom – if you are my mother – how am I supposed to believe this? It’s too much. It’s insane! You’re a monstrous Dragoness – and I’ve missed you so badly – I just – I need proof!”

  Rising, she faced the emerald Dragoness, chin jutting out.

  Holy Resurrection Dawn, her eyes! Unbearable. She knew those eyes, yet how could she trust this was real? The sense of connection,
longing and loss, fear, even selfish anger that she had been out here all these years and they had known nothing, all clumped together in an impossible, unanswerable jumble in her mind. Multi-tonne, fire-breathing Mom. How would she explain this to Dad?

  Hey Dad, mind the mouth, it spurts fire?

  She read the doubt, the disbelief, the inability to offer proof in every scale of the Dragoness’ posture.

  “So, I’m supposed to believe that you perished in a fire and got resurrected as a Dragoness?” she asked, taut as a wire about to snap. “Easy as that?”

  Sliding down from his plinth with a musical tinkling of scales, the immense golden Serpent Dragon said something definitive in his version of the musical Dragon tongue, triggering a resounding chorus of approving roars and bugles.

  “What did he say?” she asked.

  “Ssirinssar of Gold says, the proof may well lie in your journey. Where did you come from?”

  “Er, Settlement Central. You remember, don’t you?”

  “Not … very well. Not much at all.”

  “Tell us what happened, young creature,” the Serpent Dragon invited via translation, but an edge in his manner suggested that it had better be the truth, or else.

  Alodeé related how she had been walloped over the head and woken up 10 kilo-kloms from home strapped to a chemical rocket. The assembled Dragons hissed at the treachery. Samodeé gritted her fangs as if traumatised.

  The nodding began as she described passing through the curtains of fire and the translucent wall into the realm of jellyfish and Phoenix Cats, whereupon the nodding almost turned into whacking scaly chins against the floor in chorus. Ssirinssar of Gold interrupted to inquire if she had not passed through a portal. Alodeé shrugged and told him honestly that she had seen no such thing. The Serpent quelled all the murmuring with a fierce growl. Finish! Very well, she told them the rest. Warts, mistakes and all. Even how she had misread and insulted Sanhukahn of Ruby, before starting to realise that he was able to hear her thoughts.

  Samodeé translated, “This is your sworn testimony?”

  Dymand had always taught her to look a person in the eye. She tried with the Serpent and bit her lip, hard. Hypnotic eyes! “This is all true,” she whispered.