Dragon Thief

by Marc Secchia

  Tazithiel swept across the flood, stretching out, missing her grab as the flood pounded her tail downward, but nothing in the Island-World could have prevented Kal from taking his chance. For the second time in two days, Riika bowled him over. Kinetic power snatched them onto Tazi’s upper left flank.

  Kal gripped his daughter as though her life depended on it, and his too. Pain slashed his side.

  Great Islands, Razorblades! he yelled. Pack the razorblades away!

  Dad?

  Aye, you gorgeous–

  What happened, Dad? Why am I–

  Dragoness. You’re a beautiful Dragoness.

  Chapter 38: And the Stars Danced

  GOLDEN SCALES, TRIMMED with obsidian flares and borders. Kal held a Dragon hatchling, gaping at her with such a surge of wonder and pride that his heart threatened to explode. Her colour was impossible–a rich molten gold was the best he could describe it, with flashes of pure black edging each perfect scale, and the same black tracing the details of her talons, wing primaries and struts, her teeny skull spikes and ear canals. A Gold Dragoness. Riika in her Dragon manifestation measured ten feet long from muzzle-tip to tail, and was already heavier than an adult man. Her physique was compact, iron-hard muscle beneath surprisingly supple Dragon hide. And her eye-fires! Golden fire, a colour not one of the Academy Dragons had ever boasted.

  Riika cleared her throat with an involuntary burp of fire. Dad?

  Aye, daughter?

  Stop staring. It’s embarrassing.

  Kal roared with delight. Pure Riika. Enough snarkiness to sink a Dragonship. You haven’t seen yourself, have you? Take a look at your paws.

  Of course I have … uh, paws? Alright, this is bizarre.

  Rule number one of Dragonhood, said Kal. Even when you can fly rings around me, you still have to obey your father or I will paddle your backside.

  Tazithiel, peering over her shoulder with eyes never more a-whirl with excitement, said, Rule number two. Big Dragons swat cheeky little Dragons. Now sit tight, you two. We’ve an escape to pull off.

  Riika tried to pout, but discovered that pouting over fangs was not straightforward. She settled for a cute little growl, which evidently did not impress the growler either. Fine. Are you two going to act like overprotective mother ducks, or what?

  Or what, said Kal, at exactly the same instant as Tazi snarled, Call me a duck? You just earned your first smack, hatchling.

  As the deluge continued to drench their shield, hammering Kal, Tazithiel and Riika steadily Cloudlands-ward, Kal settled into his saddle and drew the Dragoness onto his lap. He would not be able to hold her thus for long, he reminded himself, for baby Dragons grew at a ferocious rate. He worked with the Indigo Dragoness to re-establish their shield, shaping it to better defeat the pounding waters.

  Spitting fire between her fangs with the effort, Tazithiel upended herself and strained against the flow.

  Riika stared at her tail. Kal would have stared too. Imagine having a tail? Dad, what am I? Dragons don’t come covered in gold, do they?

  Tazithiel growled, I’ve never seen or heard of a colour like yours. But you’re definitely a Dragoness. Everything about your form and magic, your command of Dragonish and the tenor of your fires proclaims this: you are Dragonkind.

  A Shapeshifter, like you?

  Aye, little one.

  Kal said, As Aranya predicted, Tazi, she’s a unique Dragon-beauty. Riika, you’re a new kind of Dragoness for a new world, and I for one cannot wait to discover what Dragon powers you will command. Now come, Indigo-eyes. Let’s shake a wing for your mother’s home-leaving.

  Gently, Kal augmented his Dragoness’ flight with his rare power. They sliced through the falling water as a Dragon’s talon slicing through fresh ralti meat, striving to return to the suns-shine.

  * * * *

  One second, water roared and frothed against their shield. The next, the Indigo Dragoness shot into the crystal-clear early morning, and the trio found themselves rising above a waterfall of inconceivable extent and volume. Kal stared over what had been a vast lake hidden behind a pair of doors at least twenty miles tall and perhaps ten miles thick; still the cliff-doors withdrew, widening the waterfall and deepening its voice. He clearly saw a deep blue sky through the Rim-Wall. The subterranean waters gleamed with the radiance of a starry being hovering beneath an immense archway of stone, midway between the old world and the new.

  Fra’anior’s Way stood open.

  Solemnly, the star bowed, as if inviting Kal, Riika and Tazithiel to explore the tunnel. He watched the waters slowly receding. There, at the limit of his vision, he saw another barrier slowly, evenly sliding downward, tracking the waters with a margin of a quarter-mile or so–protecting whatever lay beyond, he assumed, from the flood which thundered into the Cloudlands on this side.

  A silvery voice chimed, Today a Sun Dragoness is born, first of her kind. Welcome to the Island-World, Riika. The stars sing with you. She is born!

  Rising, Riika genuflected gravely. Kal grabbed her tail to prevent her from pitching onto her nose.

  Until we meet again, my beloved ones. Farewell.

  Tazithiel and Kal bowed with the deepest respect.

  Kal said, Go burn the heavens, Star Dragoness.

  Goodbye, mother. Tazi began to drop her head, but a movement of that blazing point of light stopped her.

  I will miss you in body, daughter. But my spirit will remain with you.

  The light sped away beneath the Rim-Wall Mountains, making for the world beyond at a terrific, ever-increasing velocity. As she moved, Aranya lit the underside of the mountain with the brilliance of pure starlight. She whizzed into the open and then curved upward, vanishing from sight behind the peaks.

  Kal sighed. That’s it, then.

  The Indigo Dragoness chuckled sadly. Kal, when will you learn that with Dragons, it is never quite over? Be patient. Look up.

  Less than a minute later, a dazzling star soared over the summit of the Rim-Wall, streaking toward the East with a long comet-trail of white, as though Aranya still wore one of her favourite Fra’aniorian lace gowns with their unfeasibly long trains. Kal’s head twizzled as she passed overhead. Great Islands, how fast was she flying? And it seemed to him, as Tazithiel turned so that they could follow Aranya’s flight without breaking their necks, that silvery laughter drifted down from the heavens like the warmest of rain, and that while there might be a shade of sorrow at her departure, what the Star Dragoness knew most of all was the overwhelming joy of a homecoming.

  Eastward she soared, far beyond the farthest boundaries of the Island-World, angling for a star Kal saw twinkling just between the twin suns and the horizon, a blue star of particular clarity and brilliance.

  The stars joined. Separated. They danced for joy.

  “What?” Kal breathed.

  Tazithiel said, “That’s Hualiama. I believe her name means ‘blue-star’. Aranya is with her family at last.”

  “But …” Kal wanted to say it was impossible. There were stars all dancing along the horizon, dark and light, white and blue … those were her family? Was the Shadow Dragon, his illustrious ancestor, up there too?

  Suddenly, the stars appeared to wink as one. Instantly, threads of light speared back toward the watching trio, as thin and strong as spider-silk, haloing the two Dragonesses in cobalt and amethyst fire, respectively, and Kal in a third thread of shadow which had incongruously taken form and dark radiance, defying any physical laws he could imagine.

  May the blessings of the Dragonkind blaze upon you and your kin all your days, said a chorus of voices.

  Fire flooded his soul, darkly resplendent.

  Tazithiel glanced at him with a smile that said, ‘What did you expect when you joined a family of Dragons, Kal?’ He would gladly have slapped her, but for the tongues of amethyst fire eddying in her fire-eyes. Was this a passing on of the flame, according to the Dragon lore he knew?

  He said, “Does this make you the reigning Queen of Imm
adia, Tazi?”

  She coughed a fireball of shock.

  Kal grinned broadly. Ah, he still had the touch.

  The beams of light faded as quickly as they had shone. Beneath the twin suns Kal observed a new cluster of stars, brilliant enough to shine despite the full flood of daylight–that would have the Dragon astronomers scratching their scaly chins!

  Tazithiel said, “I believe they’re waiting for us.”

  “Waiting?” Kal echoed.

  “You brainless Human,” growled Riika, and then clamped her jaw shut with a horrified squeak. Did I just say that? Sorry, Dad. Uh … I meant to say, of course they’re waiting for us to fly through to the new world.

  “I understand, Riika.” Kal patted her head fondly; he almost lost a finger for his trouble.

  Riika spat a word he had definitely not taught her.

  The Indigo Dragoness said, Watch out for your Dragon feelings and reactions, youngling. Think upon your nickname. You’re sharper than a razor now, faster than a flitting dragonfly, and everything will feel as though it is driven by wildfires.

  Too freaking right, muttered Riika.

  And if you’re going to knead my lap like a kitten, can you at least keep your talons sheathed? Kal inquired. I’d rather not juggle a basketful of knives in that exact spot.

  I know how to hold a thief ransom, Tazithiel suggested snidely.

  Kal decided to field-test the Indigo Dragoness’ remarks. Without warning, he bellowed at the top of his lungs, “Westward, ho!”

  Tazithiel jerked as though stung. Riika sprang fifty feet off Kal’s lap in a single bound, before discovering that hatchlings of her size needed to learn how to fly. The Indigo netted her with a burst of Kinetic power.

  Seconds later, two Dragonesses blasted Kal with the full fury of their indignation.

  Kal Shadowed, and laughed until his invisible sides ached.

  * * * *

  The outpouring of water continued unabated even though the level appeared to be dropping steadily. The Rim-Wall reservoir had been so mind-bendingly enormous that it took time to empty, while the flow created a roiling disturbance in the Cloudlands for leagues beyond the mountains. Kal wondered how long it would take for weather patterns to change. How many cubic leagues of water had already drenched the abyssal depths? Perhaps there were Land Dragons below, laughing and sporting in a new lake.

  Tazithiel gathered herself and winged toward the gap in the mountain. Fra’anior’s Way was definitely large enough for an Ancient Dragon, Kal supposed, trying to measure what he saw with some modicum of objectivity. What he now recognised as doors rather than a cliff-face had drawn back to their full extent, opening a gap of easily one hundred leagues across, if not one hundred and fifty. The far boundaries were indistinct, hidden behind swirling veils of mist. Tazithiel had estimated the original crack as six leagues tall, not counting whatever portion might still be concealed beneath the Cloudlands. And the depth? The tunnel carved through the entire Rim-Wall, as far as the horizon. But the dark tunnel tantalised and deceived his mind. Several hundred leagues, he guessed, perhaps as many as four hundred, for the air was amazingly clear, not cluttered with smoke and volcanic ash as Fra’anior’s air was year-round.

  As the Indigo Dragoness entered the mountain charily, Kal saw that more amazingly still, the water reservoir had been housed in a chamber several times taller than its outer doors. Somewhere up above, sheets of great radiant crystals hung like the finest chandeliers of a King’s ballroom, lighting parts of the cavern but leaving others in deep shadow. Several miles within, the waterfall’s great thundering began to grow muffled; Riika’s eyes glowed in the gloom, creating a fiery pool of light around her and Kal.

  Nervously, the half-Pygmy Shapeshifter said, “Tazi, you spoke all night with Aranya. Did she give you a special task? Further vital information, not limited to, ‘You’re an ingot-sized excuse for a Dragon who will laze in the suns to gain unspecified but undeniably mighty suns-powers?’ ”

  “You’ve also been picking verbal leaves out of Kal’s scrolleaf,” Tazithiel needled. “She did make one minor suggestion, namely, rolling back the Cloudlands to expose the world beneath and solving the riddle of its toxicity.”

  “Oh, only that trifle?” sniped Kal. “Today, we dispatch a Star Dragoness to the skies and discover a new world. Tomorrow, we shall solve the ills of the old one. What shall we do next week, my pair of darling fire-hoses? Paint the Islands purple and cause it to rain monkeys from clear skies?”

  “Someone’s not taking this very seriously.”

  Kal growled, “Riika, someone chafes at being handed a few Islands’ worth of troubles. It’s unfair.”

  Tazi began, “Now, Kal–”

  “No, Tazi! Aranya lumps this on your shoulders and then soars off to her twinkling glory in the skies above? How is that fair or right? Tell me.”

  “She did put it differently to what you seem to think, Kal.”

  “Oh? She added an offhand ‘please’ at the end?”

  The Dragoness said, “No, she called it the redemption of the Ancient Dragons’ original creation.”

  Kal’s jaw popped open. “What?”

  “And before you break out in a rash at my use of monkish language, the paramount task of Star Dragons in this Island-World is, literally, to keep or restore the Balance of the Harmonies. Aranya said that the Cloudlands were the greatest imbalance in this Island-World, and while I respect my dear departed shell-mother, I cannot help but wonder that if the most powerful Dragoness in history could not solve this trifle, as you term it, how in the hells she expects us to accomplish what she could not?”

  Her words emerged amidst spurts of fire. Suddenly, Kal realised that the Indigo Dragoness was as outraged–perhaps as an expression of her grief–as he was.

  “Even the Ancient Dragons did not solve this travesty!” Tazithiel snarled. “Or, they allowed it. How does that square with your precious fantasies that Fra’anior, the great black majesty himself, the possessor of the greatest overload of brain matter in history with no less than seven heads to argue with each other, allowed this world to become so polluted that nothing from above can pass below? That everything dies down there, even the lichens? How is this right, Kal? And now I’m responsible?”

  GGRRRAAARRGGGH!

  Kal held Riika close, even though she struggled with fright, panting and mewling in distress, and her finger-long talons bloodied his knees.

  Tazithiel whispered, “I’m so sorry, little one. I forget how new all this is for you. Come. Let’s think about the new world. Kal, I need to burn off some of this anger. It’s not right that we treat Aranya’s memory this way, especially not today. She did not make the world we live in.”

  “Aye.” Kal nodded. “Ready, Riika? Let’s burn through these mountains, Dragons!”

  * * * *

  The better part of two hours later, Tazithiel pulled out her air-brakes and coasted toward the second great barrier holding back the waters ahead. Kal had ceased to wonder by this point if the new world held anything but blue skies, for the Indigo Dragoness displayed a most peculiar mood. She declined to soar upward for a peek, preferring to stick to a height a couple of wingspans above the slowly receding waters. Kal refused to beg and Tazithiel appeared to have more than a few feelings to work out of her system. Better that she did, therefore, without his interference.

  “Four hundred and ten leagues through the mountains, by my reckoning,” said the Dragoness.

  Riika pretended to snore.

  “The barrier’s still dropping,” Kal observed. “I wonder what it is holding back, or why all the water is supposed to head in our direction? Maybe we’re supposed to cleanse the Cloudlands so that all the nice fresh fish that actually survive the fall, don’t get poisoned instead?”

  “Or, so that the nice Water Dragons can have a nice new terrace lake to swim in,” suggested the Sun Dragoness.

  “There will not be any problems, naturally, in introducing a hitherto unknown Dragon
species to the Dragons of our Island-World, because Dragons always coexist in blissful harmony,” Kal added.

  Tazithiel flicked her wings to take them atop the barrier, sliding through the air as smoothly as Helyon silk. Kal frowned. Dratted Ancient Dragon mountain-tossers, still ten miles or more to go. Could they not imagine building a door of less than blisteringly humungous proportions? Of course not. That would simply not suit their overinflated sense of grandeur. Then again, Fra’anior probably had scale mites the size of Humans. Perhaps Humankind had started out as scale mites on the backside of the largest Dragon in existence, sheltering beneath his armour for thousands of years …

  Irreverence and flippancy were hardly the way to be approaching a new world, Kal castigated himself. Where was the sense of holy awe that Aranya’s departure had sparked in his breast?

  Waiting for that first glimpse.

  Waiting for the skies to open up and meet the … oh, great Islands! Kal’s hand flew to his throat. Had the skies turned upside-down, their reflection bluer than the welkin above? No. Tranquil waters stretched as far as the eye could see, lapping from the Rim-Wall itself past pearly chains of Islands in the middle distance to a horizon as boundless as he had ever known, only unlike the Cloudlands, this panorama screamed of an abundance of life and splendour, a whole new realm of beauty.

  The Indigo Dragoness alighted on the edge of the doorway as if afraid to proceed. Kal knew how she felt. The picture was such a breathtaking masterpiece, he feared their presence might blight the canvas. Who painted in colours such as these? What glorious palette had been spilled upon that dusting of green Islands, the variegated turquoise waters, the clouds of myriad white birds he saw traversing the endless blue? A tang of salt teased his nostrils. A fresh breeze ruffled his hair. The poet in him could have expired in ecstasy.

  Kal knew a few legends, a few words which defied etymology, for they seemed to lack any clear origin. He whispered, “Ocean.”

  “What?” Tazi whispered back.

  “Ocean. This is the ocean, Tazi. Endless … waters.”

  “Listen,” Riika breathed. “Can you hear that? It sounds like Dragonsong. Something is singing out there, without words …”