Dragonstar (Dragonfriend Book 4)

by Marc Secchia

  So, the Tourmaline mused, Numistar and the Empress parted under the briefest of truces, but will soon return to enmity.

  What of Affurion? Elki slipped in.

  Tiiyusiel’s fires sighed. No word of the Lost Islands Dragonkind, Prince of Fra’anior.

  Mizuki noted, The Winterborn lied to the Empress, or elided the truth. Simple. ‘Let’s not kill each other until we both have what we want.’

  The Dragons fell to vigorous debate, especially after Tiiyusiel reported details of the impenetrable lattice overlying Immadior’s resting place. Was the Egg out in the open or not? Was Numistar’s presence in the Raptors, the Chrysolitic Dragons, or in the lattice itself? What surprises did the Winterborn have in store for the warring Land Dragons, and would she be able to raise and use the Egg’s magic of her own accord, or would she require other draconic help? It seemed the Ancient Dragoness had no qualms about annihilating other creatures or twisting them to her service as she pursued her goals.

  At this juncture, Jin put in, “Perhaps, given all the damage she suffered first at the Lost Islands, then at Kaolili and finally at Immadia during our battle there, what the Winterborn requires first is healing?”

  “Aye, my Rider?” Makani encouraged him.

  “Consider the plan,” the Nikuko said. “She’s hurt. Numistar grants Azziala the prize of Gi’ishior, while turning avaricious eye-orbs upon the greater prize which lies in the North. She promises Azziala, say, the head of her rebellious daughter, or perhaps the hide of a troublesome Tourmaline Dragon. If she was clever and powerful enough, she might even have planted the idea of the Natal Cave in such a manner for Azziala to take it for the truth. Isiki? You wish to speak?”

  Diffidently, the former slave said, “Or Azziala, understanding her limitations, despatched Numistar to chase the Star Dragoness and the Egg, knowing that either or both enemies must return to deal with her at Fra’anior Cluster. Respectfully, o Tourmaline, the only love she holds for her daughter is that which seeks to aggrandize her own position and powers.”

  Jin frowned at her. “Are you saying –”

  Isiki examined her toes rather ferociously. “I am saying that to judge and weigh such mighty enemies is an enormous challenge.”

  “You think we should ally ourselves with Numistar?” he shouted.

  “She didn’t say that,” Brazo interrupted.

  “She implied it! Slave thinking, that’s what it is!”

  Makani separated them with the barrier of her forepaw. “Isiki is not the enemy here, Nikuko warrior. Do not darken our fires with words that lack the most basic understanding!”

  Isiki dropped her gaze demurely, but Grandion saw iron within her. Good. If this Jinichi became a Dragon, she would need every drop of that strength.

  With that, his noble companions fell into a bitter argument that left Grandion wishing for a smidgen of his shell-father Sapphurion’s wisdom. Not that Sapphurion had always shown patience with the interminable quarrelling of draconic politicians; he had sometimes quelled arguments by the virtue of trumpeting the loudest Dragon-challenge of all! Meantime, as the Tourmaline wobbled upon his paws, Jin tromped off across Tiiyusiel’s shell in a fine strop and Isiki looked as if she wanted to cry, only her Eastern sensibilities would not allow her demeanour to crack.

  What to do now? Act the paw-stomping tyrant?

  Instead, a glimmer of light caught his attention. Starlight, closer than he might have imagined. As his powerful Dragon sight homed in on the peak overlooking the Land Dragon’s shell upon which they stood and quarrelled, with Tiiyusiel advancing yet another theory as to Numistar Winterborn’s motivations, Grandion’s smile broadened into an unabashed, hundred-fang beam.

  Incredible.

  That was why he would pursue this girl to the verimost ends of the Island-World.

  He would shadow her merely to spectate at whatever enigma she snaffled into her paw next.

  He would bask in her shining glory because he could, because she radiated pure starlight when she danced, and that starlight was like joyous laughter and rich Dragonwine and a buzz akin to battle rage playing through every magical pathway in his being.

  Raising his left fore-talon, Grandion pointed to the mountaintop. “STOP!” he boomed. “Stop your bickering, and watch a star dance!”

  * * * *

  Late that night, having returned Aluki to her tribe and with most of their companions sleeping, Grandion jerked awake from a wing-shivering dream of humanity – a dream in which he kept running off the edge of an Island, and trying to flap his wings and falling endlessly – to find Elki and Hualiama in her Dragoness-form arguing quietly beside his flank, but with vicious intensity.

  “Freaking windrocs, I can’t believe how ludicrous you sound,” Elki hissed.

  “I share my deepest distress, and you –”

  “Who the hells – I thought I knew you.” Hualiama sucked in her lips, clearly rattled, but the Prince was only warming up. His voice cut like a caustic knife. “Are you my sister? This crushed, self-centred wimp? Even a dishrag has more spine than you.”

  Grandion’s fires dipped to embers. What?

  “The girl I knew would have fought.” The Prince shook his head, his eyes hard and angry, like cold pebbles in the semidarkness. “She would have lived in fire or dance.”

  “I –”

  Elki cut her off furiously. “That girl would have sailed solo around the moons. She would have baited monks, roused a dragonet from the dead, and dared to romance a Tourmaline Dragon beneath a holy mountain. She would have crushed a giant and defied an Ancient Dragon. This featherweight? I don’t know who the hells she is. Unbelievable! You’re so … so downright selfish.”

  Lia collapsed against Grandion’s flank, her wings fluttering sharply. “Elki, please.”

  “Please?” Clenching his fists, Elki advanced on the trembling Dragoness. He spat, “You think you’re the girl no-one wanted? What Isle of insanity do you live on? Wake up! Look around you! You’re the one everyone wants! You’re a freaking star, Islands’ sakes! Your name’s written ten thousand times across the sky and you’re the child of only the greatest ruddy pair of Dragons in existence, with powers that shake the very skies and transcend death itself, and let me tell you something else!” His finger shook beneath her nose. Tears sparkled in the moons-light, streaking his cheeks. “You are not your mother! You are not Azziala. By your very nature, you can never be. You started fighting her dominion before you ever left the womb! That’s when your rebellion began – not exactly a recent development, is it? You found a way to inveigle light into your soul. You received a second chance at life and you fought through the darkest hells of existence to grasp that chance, and now you’d tear it all away in some selfish, pitiful whimpering over how unlucky you think you were? How useless?”

  “Elki, please. You’re killing me.”

  The young man gritted his teeth. “Someone has to kick some sense into you. Someone who thinks he’s still your brother, who’s followed you halfway around the world just to kick your Princess-ly behind when needed. Which is right now. Tonight.”

  She bared her shoulder to him in draconic negation. Words wrenched out like bloody gobbets of torn flesh. “I’m sorry if I disappointed you with my pathetic existence.”

  “Me? I’m going to have a child, Lia, and what am I supposed to tell that babe? What?”

  “Uh …”

  Her eye-fires widened, swirling in their depths with black and silver wrapped about sapphire foci of anguish.

  Relentlessly, the Prince ground out, “Shall I tell that infant that my precious sister, the hope of the entire ruddy Island-World, chose to kill herself rather than to rise and shine? That she was stuck so far down a fumarole’s backside, she forgot who she was and what she was born to be? Because you are hope, Lia – our only hope – when you’re not being the most selfish, blithering idiot that ever walked these Islands!”

  Such a silence had never struck the world as it did now. Grandion knew he co
uld never have railed at Hualiama like this. He had felt the same, trapped in that unbreakable cage in Shinzen’s fortress, and a star had come and plucked him loose. She had tried to commit suicide, screaming that she wanted to die. He saw those memories within her; grieved over them, and her brother attacked her? Unfair! He had to be as sensitive as that null-fires fool, Razzior, in his prime!

  Elki laughed a small, gruff laugh.

  So shocked was he, Grandion found himself unable to move a muscle.

  Reaching out, even though the Star Dragoness recoiled, he slipped his arms about her neck, and touched the white scale set upon its short thong behind her neat ruff of dark blue, white-tipped skull spikes. “Who do you dance for exactly, Hualiama? Of course, sometimes dance is for yourself; the private catharsis you spoke of. I understand that, you despicable, beloved big-sister Dragoness.” His hands caressed the scales along her cheeks, kneaded the bunched muscles of her shoulders and soothed her agitated wings. “Easy there, girl. Easy. If I spoke harshly to you … well, I don’t like my hope being snatched away, alright? I’m sorry, but I’ve learned my pestiferousness from a master of the art. Permission to boot me back. Anytime. I know the pressures on your life are immeasurable; a burden beyond anything I could imagine. That’s why you held the sword, see? You wanted a simple ending. Respite. Liberation, perhaps. But don’t you see, how … you were dancing only for yourself?”

  Hualiama voiced a low, tremulous crooning sound, quite unlike anything Grandion had ever heard from her before. She laid her muzzle upon her brother’s shoulder, and nuzzled him fondly.

  He whispered, “Dance for someone else. Shine, for us all. That’s what stars are born to do, Hualiama. A solitary inward shining? That is not the way. It is … a star’s antithesis.”

  “Stars are not selfish?”

  Her breathy reply – more a statement of realisation than a question – caused lights to explode behind Grandion’s eyes. One day, he must pull that brother of hers aside and impress upon him what a treasure he was. Such a power of insight, it was almost magical. They were related only under law, but a fresh intuition stirred within the Tourmaline now. The people of the volcano were famously called ‘Fra’anior’s Own’. What could that phrase mean, save that the Great Onyx’s very breath sighed within the lungs of those Humans living on the edge of his caldera? Which meant, magic. Magic of a distinctive nature, that would be passed down family lines … Shapeshifter magic, and more.

  He had the impression that one of seven mighty heads bowed, somewhere beyond the world. Indeed, wing brother. Indeed. Treasure that insight.

  Now, Elka’anor held his sister at arms’ length, gazing intently into her fire-eyes. He said, “The question is, dearest heart, what will be the greatest dance of your life? That’s the dance I can’t wait to see.”

  Chapter 9: Northerly Star

  Early the following morning, Dragoness-Hualiama had an extended cuddle for Elki that left her brother blushing and spluttering, Mizuki unamused, Saori fuming and Grandion … interesting. Lia wondered how much he had overheard, last night. Mercy. How Elki had taken her to task. Worse, how richly she had deserved every word, both scornful and inspirational.

  It did take saying. You are not Azziala. You can never be.

  Lia smiled smugly at Saori. “Awesome brothers need daily hugs.” He puffed out his cheeks. Aye, forgiven. She added, “And, little brother, I plan to return the favour of kicking your backside over the nearest Isle, just as soon as I determine the need. So, tune in an ear or an ear canal, everyone. Today’s task is to keep Numistar from the First Egg. Simple, right?”

  Nobody laughed.

  “Here’s what we know. Numistar has Land Dragons quarrying for the Egg in Immadior’s stomach. There are four factions of Land Dragons, perhaps more, and all are fighting each other. If we get stuck in the middle of that mess, good luck to us. Add to this the fact that the Ice-Raptors and most of the Chrysolitic Dragons are unfriendly or at the very least not on our side, nor is Numistar, and we number just four Dragons and a handful of very fine Humans against hundreds, if not thousands … still, we’ve burgled a few victories out of the paws of impossibility in the past.”

  Hualiama looked around at the intent faces watching her. “I think the only answer is for us to remain shielded. We pick an opportune moment, a moment of tactical advantage, and strike. We keep the Egg out of Numistar’s paws, and deliver it to Tiiyusiel.”

  “How big can a Dragon’s egg be?” asked Qilong.

  Elki rolled his eyes. “Fra’anior liked to fill the caldera of our cluster, which is a mere eighteen leagues in diameter. Aye, Prince Qilong. We can safely bet his egg was larger than Grandion, here.”

  “Just by a scale’s width or so,” said the Tourmaline, illustrating with his talons.

  This time, grim chuckles eased the tension, until Saori said, “Which instantly makes Tiiyusiel the most-wanted Land Dragon in history. What then? The planning seems a touch thin at this point.”

  Lia said, “If we get that far, we put up every shield we have, get down there and usher Tiiyusiel to safety. We ride with her if at all possible. Grandion and I have been working on ways to speed up even a Shell-Clan Land Dragon, so we feel confident of outdistancing any pursuit.”

  “You don’t think that’ll happen,” Saori accused.

  “I don’t.” Hualiama lifted her chin. “I wish I could read the Balance properly. I wish I knew why I feel …” As if she should be bidding her companions farewell? No. Not quite, but she could not quantify her hunch. “If something unexpected happens to me – to us – remember, Grandion and I are deeply connected. He can always sense me through our oath-magic. And, I wanted to say that I have my right head back on my shoulders, thanks to Elki. I’m sorry if I scared anyone. It was a moment of acute self-centredness that will not be repeated. I am here – here to win. We’ll need to work together and watch each other’s backs. To that end, I conversed with a Chrysolitic Dragon last night. Aluki led me to her. Shill will try to help us discreetly. Shill?”

  Laughter tinkled in the air nearby. All three of the larger Dragons stiffened, fire stomachs contracting as they instinctively readied powerful fireballs, but Hualiama steadied them with a word.

  “Shill must remain hidden for her safety as well as for ours. She has briefed me on cold-fire, however, and the only conclusion that I have reached is that we must avoid those cold fireballs at all costs. I’m not convinced we can shield against them, unless an inspirational lightning bolt strikes me from the blue. I’d welcome any ideas at this point, no matter how crazy. Meantime, prepare for agile flying. We can, however, try to turn the Chrysolitic Dragons against the Raptors. They’ve no love of each other. Finally, Shill confirmed that the frozen mists are produced by Ice-Raptors swarming in numbers. If we could somehow contrive to knock off several thousand of them, we should clear the path from Immadia to these Islands.”

  “Ambitious,” said Shayitha. “I like your thinking.”

  Queen Imaytha glanced to the villagers, gathered in front of the gateway to their defensive wall. This was one of eleven villages out here, and Lia knew the Queen’s heart grieved for this lost remnant of her people.

  “What about the ice lattice?” Grandion asked.

  “Since we don’t know what it is or why Numistar, I presume, formed it, we can only assume that it has something to do with protecting the First Egg – or, keeping everyone else away,” Lia theorised. “I’m going to assume we’ll find it mysteriously impervious to Dragon fire, attack or penetration. We go in with all senses on the alert, gather information and, as I said, pick our moment with care. Remember that our hottest fireballs are next to useless –”

  “But this Raptor poison will be a superb addition,” cried Prince Qilong, saluting Tanru and his people with his bow.

  Hualiama grinned at him. That Prince surprised her by the day. She could practically see the backbone developing and the phobias … she chuckled as he backed charily away from a fist-sized bombardier beet
le – those might take a little longer to diminish! Interesting. What if superheated steam met a Chrysolitic Dragon’s cold fireball? That could create a decent explosion.

  She said, “This time, a Star Dragoness will not be holding back. Dragons, be alert to my joining your shields with a few … special additions.”

  Mizuki’s answering smile was a Dragoness’ battle-ready display of gleaming fangs. “We fly!”

  * * * *

  The Dragons powered into a frigid dawn sky, a delicate eggshell blue above the white mists and the deep grey Cloudlands. Tiiyusiel had reported a massive barrier of scattered, cracked Islands to the North connected by deep fields of ice and snow that meant Land Dragons had to take a seven hundred-league detour West, or a longer detour to the East, to access the rich feeding grounds in the farthest northern reaches of the Island-World. Before that barrier, or apparently anchored in that barrier, Numistar’s mysterious lattice awaited them – and, infesting the eighty-eight leagues in between, an unknown number of Ice-Raptors, Chrysolitic Dragons and Land Dragons.

  Minor distractions.

  Grandion led the shielding, calling in minor adjustments suggested by Makani, Hualiama and Shill. She was in charge of watching out for her Chrysolitic brethren, a notion which prickled the Tourmaline’s scales. How could he not sense that Dragoness? How could she sense her kin, so perfectly concealed by the power of Flow, they did not leave so much as a magical signature? Hualiama was theorising, together with her Humansoul, that the Chrysolitic Dragons left their signature on a different aether or plane of existence, their Flow power operating in a similar manner to a Shapeshifter’s secondary or hidden manifestation, which was undetectable by any Dragon or technique they had attempted so far. As far as esoteric speculation went, thought-provoking – but what practical use could her conjectures serve? They needed actionable battle intelligence. That was his task.