by Cara Bristol
As they moved down the passage, her hair and dress dragged like weights. “Why are you here?” she asked in a low voice. “We agreed to part—”
“When the ship landed. It hasn’t touched down yet.”
“You play on a technicality.”
“I had to see you one last time.” He halted her and cupped her face between his palms. She gripped his wrists, seeing her own misery reflected in his somber gaze. “I promise to keep my distance on Elementa.”
She collapsed against him, and he enfolded her in his strong arms. Their lips fused in one last desperate kiss.
“I’ve decided to return to Earth,” he said.
“Because of me.”
“I have no reason to stay, except for you,” he said.
“I thought you said it wasn’t possible, that your president told you to stay here?” It testified to her selfishness that she would wish him to remain just to know he was near. She slipped out of his arms before she lost the will to let him go.
I, for one, applaud his leaving, the dragoness sniffed.
“I plan to ask Helena to intervene with her father. If she asks him to let me come home, he’ll do it.”
“That is the best thing for you,” she conceded, her heart clenching, her fyre wavering. He needed to meet the woman she’d seen in her visions, the one who would give him children.
The ship bumped and swayed as it landed on solid rock.
“I guess I have to live up to my promise now,” he said.
“Take this.” She took off her necklace.
“I can’t accept that!”
“Please,” she begged and slipped it over his head. When he met that future woman, he should have the pendant to remind him of the Draconian priestess. “Remember me.” She ran for her cabin as fast as her hair and dress would allow.
Chapter Eleven
The amber diamond sparkled like O’ne’s eyes. Flawless and about half the size of her fist, the stone threw out starbursts of light. Sitting on his bunk, Henry examined the pendant, stunned and stricken that she’d given it to him and that he’d never see her again.
A hail gonged inside his cabin, announcing Helena wished to see him.
He’d been expecting her. She’d contacted him and told him to wait for her; she’d have disembarkation instructions. He hadn’t seen her at all during the journey. She’d been busy with her official duties, and well, he’d been occupied.
The wall melted away, and she entered. “Are you decent?” she joked and then caught sight of the stone. “Is that the priestess’s pendant?”
He nodded. “She gave it to me.”
“She did?” Her eyes widened, and then a sly smile curved her lips. “Ah…”
“There is no ah.” Much as he trusted and respected Helena, and valued her friendship, he had no intention of confiding in her. He’d never been one to share intimate details of relationships, out of respect for his partners, and, in his line of business, any information shared could lead to tragedy. Besides, there wasn’t anything to divulge. They had kissed, held hands, talked. However deep the feelings and connection, the end result was immutable. The end had been forecasted.
“So she just gave you her diamond? Can I see it?” She hefted its weight in her palms. “The stone is priceless. The gold itself is worth a fortune.” She peered at the scores of fine strands woven into a thick chain.
When she handed it back, he waved it away. “Keep it. I mean, return it to the priestess. As you said, it’s too valuable. She shouldn’t have given it to me.”
In his imagination, the diamond emitted a little spark.
Helena thrust it at him. “If she gave it to you, then she wants you to have it. Return it yourself if you feel you must.”
“I promised her I wouldn’t try to see her once we landed.”
“Ah,” she said again.
Ignoring the weighted tone, he slipped the chain over his head and tucked the diamond under his shirt. The stone felt hot against his skin.
“Anyway,” Helena continued, “I have something for you, too.” She removed a small bag bandoliered across her chest and pulled out a couple of inhalers. “I know you have an inhaler already, but you’ll need extras. The air on Elementa is far more hazardous to humans than Draco was. You wouldn’t keel over dead with brief exposure—but even intermediate exposure will cause lung damage. Be sure to take a puff before going outside and regularly thereafter.”
With any luck, he wouldn’t be staying long enough to run the charge down on the inhaler he had. “Thanks. You’ve done so much for me. I, uh, hate to ask you for yet another favor.”
“What?”
“Can you work it out between your father and T’mar to get me a flight to Earth? I want to go home.”
Helena narrowed her eyes. “This is about the priestess, isn’t it? What happened?”
“Nothing—which is the point. Nothing can happen, and, with the feelings I’ve developed for her, it would be better if I left.”
“I’m sorry.”
He noticed right away she didn’t contradict his assessment. “C’est la vie.”
“Biggs still hasn’t been found. I doubt my father will permit you to come back.”
“He will if you insist on it. He listens to you. Besides, he’s most concerned about what Biggs would do to you, not me.”
“I don’t know about that…”
Henry cocked his head and twisted his mouth.
“All right. Let me work on it. It’s the middle of the night there now, and I need to talk to T’mar first. All Draconian ships of any size are committed to the relocation, but he might be able to spare a space pod. If he can’t, and my father needs to send a ship, it will take longer to arrange.”
“Fair enough. Thank you. I appreciate it.”
Helena sighed. “Let me tell you about where you’ll be staying in the interim. I’ve put you in a special guest wing. It’s been adapted for humans, so you won’t need to use the inhalers inside. The furniture is, if not totally Earthlike, certainly closer to it than what you saw on Draco. Water is a shower option, and there’s a big covered quad with a swimming pool—”
“Swimming pool?” He used to love to swim—it was his preferred form of exercise and recreation. He hadn’t been swimming in ages—hadn’t encountered more than a glassful of water since leaving Earth.
“See, if you stayed—”
“Nice try.”
“I don’t want you to leave. I’ll miss you! I love T’mar with my heart and fyre. I would do anything for him, go anywhere with him. But it’s nice to have human friends.”
“I know. And I feel guilty for leaving you.” But not guilty enough to stay.
“You don’t need to feel guilty. We each need to make the decision that will benefit us.”
“Thanks. So, how do I get to the palace?”
“The usual way. A donatta will take you. The landing site is quite a distance from the palace, and the Red River cuts it off from the First City, so you couldn’t walk even if you wanted to. Elementa isn’t safe for humans—you caught a glimpse of the terrain when we came to rendezvous with T’mar. Wide crevices stretch for miles. You could fall into an old fumarole tube—or get scalded by the live ones spewing steam. And you have to watch for the venomous tetrapods. They attack without warning.”
Despite his heartbreak, he laughed. “Good thing you’re not writing the copy for the tourism website.”
“T’mar’s palace is beautiful.”
“You’ve seen it?”
“Well, no. But judging from the architecture on Draco…”
Right, that. Draconians were masters of design and preferred detailed ornamentation.
“Anyway…leave your luggage on the ship—it will be transported to the palace. I’ll talk to T’mar, see what I can work out with my father, and get back to you as soon as I can. The donatta who flies you to the palace has been assigned to you.”
“The same one I had on Draco?”
“No, diff
erent one.”
That was a relief.
“If you want anything, tell her, and she’ll acquire it. I’ll keep in contact, but if you need me sooner, tell her and she’ll come get me. If you wish to do a little sightseeing around the First City or Elementa, have her fly you.”
“Thanks. Will I be free to explore the palace on my own?”
“Yes, but bring the inhaler because some areas are open to the atmosphere.”
After a final few instructions, they fist-bumped to say goodbye, and Helena left to return to her duties. Despite her instructions to leave everything, he shoved some essentials—weapons—into a small rucksack and headed for the disembarkation corridor.
* * * *
The donatta flew like a drunken bumblebee, listing, swooping, and zigzagging. He clung to the talons clasped around his middle and prayed she didn’t lose her grip or that he didn’t lose his breakfast.
Despite the topsy-turvy flight, he soon became enamored of the gnarled, rocky scenery and could better appreciate Helena’s warnings against venturing out alone. He spotted “crevasses” as wide as canyons and smaller but still dangerous fissures too numerous to count. The ubiquitous black rock appeared jagged enough to slice through one’s boots, and the so-called Red River was a Mississippi-wide, red-hot channel of lava and fire scorching a winding path as far as the eye could see.
On the horizon, he spotted one volcano spewing molten rock while another spit plumes of thick smoke high into the voggy, scarlet sky. He grabbed his inhaler and took a fortifying puff.
The beautiful, fascinating, and dangerous topography seemed symbolic of the chasm between humans and dragons. Paradise to one meant death to the other. Was there any wonder the two sides found it difficult to get along? Helena and Rhianna, who sought to foster peace and understanding between the two nation planets, had their work cut out for them.
A glint of light winked in the distance, and then the sprawling First City crept into view. He widened his eyes in awe and then swore as the donatta swooped straight down to bring them in close. She bugled, and he’d swear it sounded like a laugh.
Draconian style reminded him of Greco-Roman architecture, only more elaborate. Intricately carved pillars supported decorative capitals beneath massive domes and rooftops adorned by bas-relief murals. He’d never seen such intricate detail applied to a roof, and then it struck him the building tops were the first thing a dragon saw. Form and function had developed around flying. Homes were constructed to accommodate fly-ins, the living spaces located on the perimeter of quadrangle and octagon courtyards. Doors were superfluous.
The First City had gone up in record time, and the Draconians hadn’t waited on erecting statuary. He recognized likenesses King K’rah and Prince T’mar in addition to many unfamiliar Draconians he assumed were statesmen of import.
As they neared the center, they sailed over a thick, bejeweled wall into another city. The already impressive white-white structures got larger, grander, and more ornate, the buildings, towers, monoliths, and spires inlaid with glinting gemstones. Within the confines of the city walls, lava pools bubbled and fumaroles smoked. Statues were in great abundance, some shooting fire or belching smoke. He did a double take as he spied a huge marble one of a demiforma Prince T’mar holding hands with Helena and realized they hadn’t entered another city but the palace compound.
The donatta bugled again and dove straight down to land next to a structure commanding half a city block and several stories of air space. Gargoyles in fight mode glowered from a turreted roof.
The donatta released him and shifted into demiforma. Naked, she grinned at him. “Did you enjoy the flight?” Yellow eyes glinted with humor.
“I assume the swoops and dives were for my benefit?”
She chortled but not maliciously, and he thrust her clothing into her hands, grateful she’d had the foresight to ask him to pick up the tatters after she’d shifted. The intelligent fabric had knitted itself together.
She donned the common, drab gray uniform. Draconians celebrated beauty in their architecture and in their love for jewels, precious metals, and all things shiny. But they were realists, too. They saw little sense in adorning their demiforma bodies with fine fabrics to be destroyed every time they shifted. Even intelligent fabric could be stretched only so far.
“This is where you’ll be staying.” Her voice was gravelly, almost masculine, but all demiformas sounded rough. She gestured at the entry, a solid stone portal sans knobs, handles, or levers. Like the building itself, it was carved but with human figures instead of dragons.
“Technically you may come and go as you please, but you should not explore unaccompanied,” the donatta said. “It’s not safe for a human.”
“I got the speech from Princess Helena.”
“If you need anything, ask me. When you approach the portal, it will open.” She motioned for him to try.
He stepped forward, and the door melted away in front of him, very similar to the walls on the ship.
“I studied the schematics before arrival. I can show you around.”
“Please,” he said. “Thank you.”
“Follow me.” She stepped onto a marble floor inlaid with a scattering of jewels. “You’ll notice the portal is narrow. For your protection, the chambers and passages are smaller to ensure no one can walk in and then shift into dragon,” she explained.
“Is that a danger?” Contrarily, the precautions taken aroused his concerns.
“Everyone is aware Earth tried to steal Elementa, and, although the squatters have left, resentment simmers. No one who knows of your association to Prince T’mar and Princess Helena would touch you, but some may be unaware of your protected status.”
Despite the “bumpy” flight, he had sensed no ill will from her. “You don’t resent me?”
“I’m aware of your association.” Her eyelid twitched in a manner that suggested she might be trying to wink.
Dangerous geography, venomous fauna, and a population of resentful, angry dragons. Did he need any more incentive to leave? Beneath his shirt, the pendant seemed to heat.
“What’s your name?” he asked.
“I’m called J’leen.”
“Thank you, J’leen, for looking after me.”
“It’s my job,” she said gruffly, but he caught a whiff of a scent that reminded him of embarrassment. Or maybe it was pleasure? He was getting fanciful, imagining odors and assigning emotions to them.
The door sealed behind them, and J’leen beckoned. “There are several sleeping chambers, and as you are the sole occupant of this wing, you may choose whichever one you want.” She motioned at carved doors as they passed. “Entries are marked so you can see them, but they function like they did on the ship or on Draco.”
“They open automatically—if I have clearance,” he said.
“Yes.” She nodded. “You have clearance to everything in this wing. Farther down this area, you’ll find a receiving space.”
“Receiving space?”
“A chamber where you would meet with guests. It has benches, chairs…”
“We call that a living room or parlor.”
“The food replicator is here.” She waved open a room. A floor-to-ceiling food dispenser took up most of the closet-sized area. “I’m told Princess Helena will have human-style meals sent over to you, but, if you get hungry, the replicator is at your disposal.”
“Have you, uh, worked as a donatta long?” Was it a real occupation? Or had she been tagged by T’mar to babysit him?
“Not long. About two hundred years—since V’ton and I were mated.”
Only. He’d forgotten how long dragons lived.
“My mate is one of Prince T’mar’s guards, and through him I secured a position as donatta for His Highness’s guests.”
“Do you have children?”
She bared a mouthful of razor-like teeth. “Seven so far. The youngest is only twenty-five years, but he has mastered the ability to throw fireballs
,” she said proudly.
Fireballs? “He must be advanced for his age,” he offered politely.
Another proud, toothy smile. “Very. He takes after his sire.” She beckoned. “Now, don’t get me started talking about the dragonlings! Come this way. I have a surprise. I’m told it is something humans appreciate.”
She led him across the residence and pointed to another door. “Go inside.”
“What is it?”
“See for yourself.” She swished her tail.
“You’re not coming in?”
Her snout wrinkled. “I’ll wait here.”
He glanced at her before approaching the portal. The door peeled away to reveal crystal clear water sparkling in a three-lane lap pool running the length of the marble chamber. Smooth polished sapphires tiled the perimeter and glittered on the bottom.
Helena had said there was a pool. He knelt and dipped his hand in the water. T’mar had gone to a lot of trouble to accommodate the tastes and habits of potential human guests and please his mate. He didn’t smell chlorine or other chemicals and surmised the water was cleaned through some advanced technology—like all things Draconian. He glanced at J’leen hovering almost apprehensively in the hall. “You’re not coming in?”
“No, no.” She backed away, shaking her head, and he caught a strange odor.
Fear? He tried to name the oddly sweet smell. “You’re not afraid of water, are you?”
Her neck frill flared, and she jerked her tail. “I am a dragoness. I fear nothing.”
But she obviously was. They all probably were. Fire. Water. Not a good mix. No wonder there weren’t any real showers or fountains—none that spewed water anyway.
“My apologies. Of course, you’re not,” he lied to maintain a rapport with the sole friendly dragon he’d encountered. He stood and returned to the corridor. “Thank you.” He would have found the pool on his own, but it was thoughtful of her to show it to him, given her fear. She took her responsibilities as donatta seriously.
Their conversation resumed, albeit a little strained, but awkwardness soon evaporated as she filled him in on other matters. She demonstrated how to use the comm centers through which he could contact her and/or send a message to Helena’s donatta.