Hubris: The Azdhagi Reborn

by Alma Boykin

  “You,” one of the attackers ordered, pointing at the silent aircraft, “open the door, let the female Azdhagi out, and no one will be hurt!” Lord Shu did not want a diplomatic incident with the True-dragons and had beaten that into his soldiers: grab the female Azdhag, kill her if necessary, don’t hurt the True-dragons unless they fired first. “Fur-covered fools, open the door,” the soldier repeated. “Or we’ll force it open!” The door slid just a little, then a little more, and a blast of blue fire sent the trooper to the judges of hell.

  Tarkeela’s men opened fire just as Kirlin’s did, catching the interlopers at the point of a flaming triangle. “Take them alive if you can,” Tarkeela ordered his men, hoping that Kirlin had given the same order. They’d not discussed that detail and probably should have, the older noble noted with a spare brain cell, even as he watched and tried to coordinate with Kirlin’s men.

  Outshot if not outgunned, Shu’s males surrendered after three more of them died, including Shaakee. “But you’re not supposed to be here,” one of the survivors protested to Lord Kirlin. “You’re down at the secondary landing area. That was the plan!”

  Kirlin slapped the thug’s head with his weighted, armor-clad tail, knocking the reptile off his feet. The two nobles exchanged grim looks, and Kirlin inquired, “Do you want them or shall I have them interrogated?”

  Tarkeela beckoned his chief bodyguard. “Lorkee, would you object to Lord Kirlin’s men having a word with these flat-peckers, or do you want the first question or two?”

  Korlee’s twin brother considered the matter. “Great my lords, perhaps a joint operation might be in order. I’m not a fan of cold water, so I’ll talk and Great Lord Kirlin’s men can dunk.” Evil grins appeared on several muzzles as they looked toward the rapid, muddy, and ice-cold Zhangki River at the foot of the gentle slope.

  “I defer to your seniority.” Kirlin stepped well back, and up-slope, giving his men permission to begin hauling the protesting prisoners down. “Oh, don’t drown them unless our host gives permission—it is his water quality permit that’s in danger, after all.”

  “True. We’re not supposed to dump raw sewage and fewmets into the Zhangki,” Tarkeela added loudly, “Although his Imperial Majesty might make allowances for the effects of spring floods.” As he turned to escort Kirlin back to Mountains’ Edge manor, he told Lorkee under his breath, “Get all you can out of them, then hold them until Kirlin and the Moytu people are safe. We’ll decide then.”

  “Yes, my lord,” and the heavy male bowed to the nobles before lumbering down to the water’s edge.

  In contrast to the two nobles’ excitement, Cheerka’s group arrived at Burnt Mountain to find a pile of trussed-up Azdhagi guarded by Azdhagi and True-dragons both. Pink and black Gracee waved her tail, catching the newcomers’ attention. «Do you want them or can we use them for hunting bait?» she asked, broadcasting in the open for the benefit of the captives.

  Lord Ostro winced at his sister’s jibe. «I’d apologize for my head of security’s lack of tact but she does have a point.» He poked one of Shu’s raiders with his talon and opined loud enough for everyone to hear, «This one might be stewable. He feels pretty well fleshed, with a nice fat layer.» The bound and muzzled reptile in question soiled himself, then fainted.

  Neela felt herself shaking as Farfee, crammed into the hiding place with her, laughed so hard that her entire body trembled. Neela agreed—it was a funny joke, the idea of True-dragons eating Azdhagi. «He probably tastes like tremble-lizard,» Neela thought with the “public” part of her mind, as Master Lorkiss had taught her.

  «Yuck!» Farfee stopped laughing and spat. When Gracee twirled her tail in summons, Farfee turned off the visual scrambler in front of the pair’s hiding spot and squeezed herself out of the cavern. Neela followed, stretching and bouncing to relieve the cramps and kinks. At Gracee’s command, Neela had left her supplies and belongings on board the half-hover. There’d been plenty of room, since only she and Farfee—and the pilot, of course—had come by air.

  Korlee regarded the not-so-little dark brown female with interest. “Healer Neela?”

  “I am she.” She stood still and calm. She’d earned her rank and a now-confident and self-possessed female studied the males in turn.

  “Well met,” Korlee stated. He turned to the True-dragons. “Lord Ostro, Lord Tarkeela sends his greetings and I apologize for the excitement.”

  «No apology needed. I hate flying,» Ostro replied. «I am concerned about what this means for Healer Neela, however.»

  “What it means for the moment, Lord Ostro, is that she will be under guard. Imperial guard, because his Imperial Majesty ruled that Healers are sacrosanct,” Cheerka informed the Head of House Moytu. “That applies to True-dragon and outsider Healers as well.”

  «Good to know, better to see in action.» The House Head shook all over and stretched. «Oh, two of their vehicles are over in the trees. Gracee, well, her enthusiasm gets the best of her sometimes, so the third might need a little touch-up before it can be used again.» Neela, who’d seen the explosion, snickered, and Ostro winked at her.

  She would miss the informality of the True-dragons. Neela sighed behind her mental walls as she followed Cheerka to the half-hover so she could rescue her belongings. But she would not miss other things. Her tail now sported a permanent kink and numb spot thanks to a careless young male who’d stepped on her shortly after her arrival at Moytu’s Landing. The winter storms terrified her and if she never had to help with avalanche victims again she would die a very happy reptile. It would be nice not to have to constantly mind her thoughts, too. Neela clambered up into the half-hover and passed her clothing bundle out to one of Tarkeela’s soldiers, then dragged her medical kit out. “No,” she squeaked, then coughed, forestalling his attempt to take it for her. “I need to carry this,” and she maneuvered the pack so she could clip it to her harness, draped over her back to equalize the weight.

  «Right,» Lord Ostro declared, catching everyone’s attention. «Neela, you go with the big brown person in that land vehicle. Farfee, you and Gracee take the aircraft and provide air cover. Korlee, do you want the deadwood?»

  “Yes, my lord. We can stack them on our vehicle and my men will drive theirs back to Mountains’ Edge.” Three of Korlee’s soldiers trotted toward the Shu scout vehicles, while the others swarmed the prisoners, assisting the True-dragon security people with loading them onto Korlee’s troop carrier. “Ah, do you need transportation, my lord?”

  «No, my vehicle is parked behind the trees,» Ostro laughed. «I like the design of your transport but I prefer a little more tail room. I’ll meet you at Mountains’ Edge.»

  Once safely underway, Cheerka turned to Neela. “Healer Neela, just to update you on the past year, in case you missed some of the details,” he began, and she gestured her agreement. “Right. Let’s see. Shortly after you left, old Lord Blee died, passing the Clan Lordship to his daughter and her mate. His sons challenged the succession and after a lot of hot air and tail nipping, his Imperial Majesty settled the claim on Blee’s second son. The law now states that no female can inherit, nor can she serve as Clan head unless she has served in the military. Since females cannot serve anymore…” he stopped as Neela frowned.

  “Why not?”

  “Because there are, yipe!” He clutched the safety straps as the vehicle lurched.

  “Sorry. A talkak wandered into the track and I don’t think we should take him home in the engine compartment,” the driver apologized.

  Cheerka’s nostrils pinched shut at the thought of the mess. “Understood.” He turned back to Neela. “Because there are too few females, Healer, now that they only bear one offspring every three year-turns. His Imperial Majesty ruled that only known sterile females will be allowed into the military, although he approves of females learning weapons skills for self-defense and defense of their juniors. And then the Clan Lord must give his permission for her to sign up. After the events of late last summer, th
at is not going to happen.”

  “What happened?” Neela tried to imagine what else could go wrong.

  “Central City and New Southdown, plus the land in a one hundred-kliq radius are all forbidden territory, not to be entered on pain of death, not that anyone still sane would set foot on that soil.” Cheerka shuddered at the memory of the pictures sent from Central City. “The females are delivering mis-born at a terrible rate down there, Healer Neela. Something contaminated the water, not just the rivers but the groundwater as well. It’s ruined irrigated crops, people are dying from poisoning as well as from normal things, and the Royal Council ordered all salvage work to cease. Nothing may be imported from Sseekhala unless it is certified clean, meaning that we’ve lost most of the products of the central plains. It’s a ghost land,” he concluded with a shiver.

  “Anyway, what else of interest? Lord Shu stepped in it at Court yet again and was banned through this spring. Apparently neck-wraps have become very popular fashion accessories among the females, replacing half gloves as the decoration of choice,” Cheerka rumpled his tail. “And his Imperial Majesty finally named his son Tahdak as successor.” He had other news but Lord Kirlin needed to tell Neela that himself, Cheerka decided. “Oh, and be glad the snow is gone, Healer Neela. Tartai, Lord Tarkeela’s youngest junior, has a gift for throwing balls of snow and finding the one spot you forgot to cover.”

  Neela tipped her head to the side, fascinated by that bit of information. “Does Tartai need gloves to be able to pick up the snow without being cold-burned?”

  Cheerka blinked and tried to remember. “Ah, no. In fact he prefers to take them off, along with most of his winter wraps. Why?”

  Neela made a small negation. “Just curious.” She grinned broadly behind her careful facade. If Tartai resisted cold burns to the point of being able to play in the snow, it meant that another of the Star-Strong benefits just might have passed through and be taking effect. She’d noticed that she needed fewer winter robes and layers than the few other Azdhagi she’d seen in the previous year. «Well, two beneficial changes do not begin to balance the price,» the Healer reminded herself, thinking of her own lineage’s suffering.

  Four days later Neela, Lord Kirlin, and his men returned to Sunblast. Kirlin kept glancing at his “new Healer,” not quite recognizing the once undersize and trembling female. Instead, a confident and average-sized professional looked around quietly, studying her world with new eyes and unwilling to cower ever again. His first meeting with the new Healer disconcerted Kirlin greatly. He’d told her that he looked forward to seeing her perform, and she raised a forefoot, talon cocked in reproof. “Great my lord, Healing using a Gift is no different from using pharmaceuticals, surgical tools, or other therapies. There are times where it will be appropriate and others where it could well worsen the situation. I am a trained Healer, not a master surgeon or a wonder-worker, great my lord. Please do not expect what cannot be.”

  Master Lorkiss had been emphatic on that point, beating it into her and Farfee’s heads almost daily. “Do not use your Gift except to diagnose the unseeable, or as a last resort, just as you use amputation.” And he’d shown his students why, drawing examples from multiple species, mammalian as well as reptilian—a few still made Neela’s stomach churn, even as memories. “Never, ever let yourself be forced,” he’d warned. “Nothing good comes of it. If you are tired, if you are uncertain, do not use your Gift—rely on your earlier training instead.” He matched word with deed and Neela realized now that she’d studied with one of the True-dragons’ best Healers and teachers. And she knew that as much as she disliked Sheek, he’d taught her well in his own way.

  Lord Kirlin for his part wondered at her. He’d expected her to be small but skilled, not larger and as professional as his soldiers. He’d also not expected her cool response upon being informed that she’d been betrothed to his son Tarlek. Instead of fainting with delight at the honor, Neela had politely informed him that her duties to the Clan might interfere with her managing Tarlek’s household. Well, Kirlin wanted her trained, and Kirlin himself did not care for abjectly submissive females or males. He also wondered how best to protect her. “I am not staying penned up in Sunblast manor headquarters, great my lord,” she’d informed him. “If there is need I must travel, just as your physicians and medics do.”

  “Ah, great my lord?” the pilot called over the intercom, interrupting the noble’s cloud chase.

  “Yes?”

  “Great my lord, be advised that we will be landing on the outfield due to other traffic currently approaching Sunblast,” the pilot apologized. Kirlin grunted in acknowledgment, then returned to his thoughts.

  They landed without excitement, although Neela decided that she’d just as soon not travel by air for another few years after they diverted around a small but strong storm. She liked seeing what bounced her, thank you! However, even Kirlin hesitated when he saw the insignia on the fuselage of the military transport parked on the main landing area. “Healer Neela, did the True-dragons teach you the protocols for speaking with the King-Emperor?” he asked under his breath as the group paced toward the main buildings.

  “Yes, great my lord.” Lorkiss believed in overpreparation. Or perhaps not overpreparation, because even Neela knew who loomed over the reptiles assembled to welcome Lord Kirlin and his new Healer home. Only one male’s description matched the black-green warrior who studied both his surroundings and the new arrivals with great interest. The crowd parted and Kirlin bowed very low, while Neela and the others prostrated themselves as King-Emperor Seetoh stalked forward. Neela took a deep breath and recited a calming mantra. Seetoh “felt” larger than his physical presence, much as the True-dragons did. Well, she’d survived them, so she could survive her King-Emperor, Neela decided, then glanced up at the very large Azdhag. Maybe.

  “You my rise,” a deep voice commanded, and the Azdhagi rustled to their feet. “Well met, Lord Kirlin.” Seetoh swished his tail. “I am quite pleased by what I see of Sunblast and the Kirlin lands.”

  “Thank you, Imperial Majesty,” Kirlin murmured.

  The big reptile advanced until he could clearly see Neela. “And this is our new Healer.” He circled her, intrigued by the novelty.

  Neela studied him in turn, noticing the hints of premature joint wear in his hind legs. Too much time walking on his hind legs in full armor? she speculated.

  Whatever he saw apparently pleased the King-Emperor. “Kirlin, we will reimburse you for the cost of her training if she proves useful. In which case I want her to come to the Palace after ten years, to train additional Healers in a neutral location.”

  “As you command, Imperial Majesty,” the noble managed, almost choking on the words. Damn it! He’d already planned for her, including charging her students a modest fee for her time.

  “She’s too valuable to all Azdhagi, Kirlin. We cannot in good faith allow you to monopolize her,” Seetoh said before softening his tone. “When she’s trained more Healers, she can return here if she so chooses. I’m not a monster, my late sibling’s execution notwithstanding.” With that the King-Emperor departed, leaving a shaken Lord Kirlin and irritated Neela in his wake.

  That night, Kirlin called Tarkeela. “Tarkeela, do you know anything about one of the Royal Highnesses being executed?”

  “No, but I’m not surprised if one was. There’s a streak of it in the lineage. Did you have any problems en route?”

  “Only a small weather detour. Your people did good work.” Kirlin frowned before adding, “Are you planning on protesting to the Throne about Shu’s ambush?”

  “Absolutely. I’ve collected enough testimony to prove beyond a doubt that he was behind it, plus I found the spy in my household. She is no longer wasting air.”

  “What? Were you not able to convince her to join your hunt?” Kirlin still did not know who’d leaked the information from his own household. Thankfully, he and Tarkeela anticipated a problem and had found a very discrete way to communicate.


  “I could not take the risk, Kirlin. She jeopardized my mate and junior.” Tarkeela still wished he could have used the female as bait for something large and slow-eating. Neetai’s protests that the female had not hurt Tartai, and that she’d been a good junior-minder thus far, persuaded Tarkeela to shoot the female rather than drowning or slowly strangling her, but Tarkeela still wanted to kill something. “I’m finishing the formal documentation and planned to present the request at the next Court session.”

  “Understood. I planned on attending, so,” and the scream of a furious predator cut him off. “What the… Kirlin out.” Kirlin grabbed a small blaster and threw open the workroom door, charging down the corridor, around a corner, and into the middle of a screaming, clawing battle. Three bodies rolled around, so tangled that he had no idea who to grab or shoot. A small forefoot slashed out and a male bellowed, a low roar that swiftly rose in pitch to become an ear-piercing wail.

  “Leave me alone, you,” a female shrieked. “Leave me alone!” The gravely injured male stopped moving and lay on the floor, moaning and whining, clutching his penile flap as brown-red blood gushed out from between his legs and tail, making Kirlin cringe. “Never lay a scale on me,” Neela panted, pointing with her bloody forefoot.

  Teelo winced at the damage the female had inflicted. “Ah, Healer Neela, are you going to patch that?”

  She shook blood and tissue off her talons. “I suppose so, if we can get him to the infirmary. I’m not going to try and reconstruct the sperm ducts and penile extensors, though.” Teelo spoke quickly into his radio and two more large guards appeared. They grabbed the wailing male and carried him out of sight, careful not to drip more blood on the floor. Neela noticed Kirlin for the first time and bowed. “Great my lord.”