Dragonstar (Dragonfriend Book 4)

by Marc Secchia

  The Tourmaline roared, BEWARE ABOVE!

  Second trap, sprung! With a reverberating concussion of roars, a massive Dragonwing of the two-headed Orange Dragons of Shinzen’s forces broke through the clouds above. Grandion knew these green-headed fiends. He had fought them; Azziala must have turned hundreds or even thousands to her command.

  He and Hualiama were one. Somehow, he had the stupid trousers up and he gripped them with one hand, waving the other and willing the power to stampede toward her.

  I AM GRANDION!

  Let the Blue-Star know his power!

  “Idiot,” said Saori, deftly buttoning up his modesty.

  Pirouetting mid-air, the Hualiama-Flicker pair caught Grandion’s incoming Storm mid-blast and tossed it skyward with an impish Blue-Star touch. Auroral flowers. An upward whirlwind of shattering, spinning, bladed petals that sliced the Dragons’ wings into ribbons.

  Hundreds of Orange bodies rained from the sky, the green dots of their heads bellowing uselessly. Grandion grinned as if his mouth were stuffed with fangs. Show off.

  I’m a Dragoness, Hualiama returned.

  Never more so, my wingéd treasure, he approved.

  Still, the two-headed Dragons outnumbered Grandion’s Dragonwing two to one. Within seconds, dozens of individual snarls developed as the Dragons tore into each other. Hualiama darted between the combatants, sweeping up random monks here and there. Their blades spat and sparked as she and the monks attacked the Orange Dragons like a swarm of mosquitoes, while Flicker gathered his own command and speared into a flight of Oranges threatening the Immadian Dragonships.

  Grandion knew he could not just flail about like last time. Friend and foe mixed too closely. Still, with Saori holding him aboard by the seat of his trousers – literally – he had to do something. Being outshone by a Star Dragoness might be an occupational hazard, but he was not the type of Dragon to take second wing-position lightly.

  Nor could Mizuki use her Shivers with impunity.

  Get us close, Copper, he ordered. Join with me. We’ll brawl from the inside.

  Using the fleeting seconds available to him as Mizuki wheeled into a knot of Oranges, wingtip to wingtip with Makani, Grandion organised his Dragons with a series of incisive commands. No feral-heads on his watch. Groups condensed before his eyes as Jin’s ideas, translated into Dragonish practice, paid fruit. Each smaller Dragonwing was led by a powerful, esteemed male or female. Family groups, alliances and Islands had been respected – but the Tourmaline had also extracted oath-promises that his orders would be obeyed. All this, at no small cost, because an allied group of Dragons fought far more efficiently than isolated individuals, especially considering the massive numerical advantage these two-headed pests enjoyed.

  Supported by a thick knot of Greens and Reds of Herliss, Hualiama and her monks steadily rolled up the southern flank. She was the weapon. The talon sinister, striking lethal blows faster even than a draconic eye could follow.

  Rushing toward a dozen-strong force of Oranges, the Tourmaline visualised fists. No, hands. Reaching out with a snap like a cobra’s strike, Grandion seized an orange tail in each hand, whirled them once about his head and set about clubbing the enemy to death. The Oranges howled in dismay until the power of his blows crushed their skulls. He reached out. Bigger. More magic. Tourmaline bands clamped like steel around an Orange Dragon’s torso, and crushed the life out of him. Aye! The power swelled inside his breast like an untamed beast in its own right.

  Mine, sniffed Mizuki as she Shivered a pawful of Oranges out of existence.

  No, mine! snarled Makani, firing seven successive Glue-blobs into another snarl of Oranges. The Dragons howled as heads, necks and wings stuck together – a Dragonwing of Reds from the Fingers of Ferial screamed in, and tore the disabled Dragons apart. Elki potted one straggler in passing, scoring a perfect eye-shot.

  The Dragonesses grinned at each other. The Copper said, Come on, Tourmaline. Flex those muscles!

  HA-HA-HAAA!! The battle-mirth of a Tourmaline Dragon shook the skies about him with a shattering drumroll.

  Saori grumbled, “Do I just keep holding onto his trousers, or what?”

  * * * *

  Hualiama swooped and fought raggedly as her meagre resources threatened to run dry, but Grandion’s feral-edged laughter buoyed her strength. He remained aware, somehow on the edge of a crimson, boiling mind-madness, but still close. She settled him with a mental touch as her impromptu battle group rolled over the Immadian Dragonships, scrapping away madly. Whirl! Strike! Nuyallith forms flowed from the halls of her memory. What if she could teach Shapeshifters to fight like this? Well, not all would possess Grandion’s powers. Or hers. Red blade and blue crossed quicker than thought, gutting an Orange Dragon and slicing a green head at the exact junction of its neck. Poison streamed off her shield. She renewed it in a blink. Miss a drop, and that necrotising venom would eat her alive …

  I … AM – a familiar cry! Lia wrenched a neck muscle, she spun so fast – JINICHI!!

  Great leaping Islands! Four wings. Brown muzzle. Feral madness in the eyes!

  Freakish feral fires! yelled one of the Dragons. What happened there?

  He was sleek. Beautiful. A beautiful, muddy brown with lighter scale detail, or she missed her mark. Hualiama shook herself. Help me! He’s feral … Makani! Where’s –

  The Grey replied urgently, Isiki? Here! Grab that Dragon before he flies.

  Her? Grab a Dragon three times the size of her hatchling? As her Dragonwing dived, Jinichi’s wings flared. She flattened him with a malformed aerodynamic shield. Oops.

  Perfect attack! crowed another of her companions. In seconds, a quartet of Dragons landed around the enraged youngster and, well, sat on him. Piled on. Jin bellowed his maddened lungs out, but since each of his captors was two and a half times his size and probably twenty tonnes heavier, his protests did not avail much.

  Landing near the trapped Shapeshifter Dragon, Lia called quickly, “Jin! Jin, listen to me. Hualiama. You’re a Dragon. It’s alright. Calm down.”

  Gnarrrr! he groaned.

  Hualiama felt the rock shift beneath her feet. She rapped, He has Brown powers. Watch out.

  Not just brown, but also a very light teal, she noticed, similarly to how her own scales had a white tinge in addition to their midnight blue. Jin’s colouration was more freckling than her distinctive scale-edge patterning, however. A wild scramble developed as the ground heaved; the Dragons subdued their captive by dint of a few rounds of pounding his head against the rock, and standing on his wings. Lia winced. Dragons could soak up ridiculous amounts of punishment, but this …

  Ooh, purred Makani, flaring her wings for landing. He’s compact, but handsome.

  Had she called Grandion compact, Lia suspected he might have tried to tear an Island apart just to prove otherwise. No time for speculation. Jin needed help.

  “Isiki, quickly,” she called.

  “I briefed her,” Makani noted. “Right in the ear canals – hold him!”

  Jinichi’s thunder did far more than shake the air. He was flexing naked rock with the power of his Brown magic already.

  “Right. Makani, get us to his head. Isiki, you need to touch and speak. That’s the theory.”

  Gnarr! growled Jin, savaging a stray hind paw. The injured Dragon kicked him in the jaw by way of repayment. Down, feral-head!

  Grief. She knew how big Dragon fangs were, but when she was Human-sized and a sparkly new set of living daggers was champing nearby, life became that much more exciting. Check the battle. Perhaps a few seconds of respite. Just now, Grandion was playing bash-a-Dragon with two limp scraps of green-headed Dragon hide. Hualiama gasped as Makani snatched her up and immediately swung her over to Jin’s head.

  “Isiki – Isiki!” The girl’s almond eyes were huge with terror. “You are a Dragon Rider. Snap to it! Here, this hole is an ear.”

  “Jin. Jin, sweetheart,” she warbled.

  “Good.”

  GRRRAA
ARRRGGHH! The girls rocked as the ground heaved and the pile of Dragonflesh with it, but Lia grabbed his sleek skull ridges and held them both in place. Jin was growing stronger, not weaker. Wretched Dragon. How dare he emerge three times bigger than her already, and apparently in full possession of his Dragon powers?

  Hualiama said, “Jin, listen. Isiki is here. Remember Isiki. Remember the touch of her hand. Remember her sweet nearness.”

  Isiki gulped, “Uh – Dragonfriend! Alright, alright. Jin, please. Hear me. Hear my voice, Jin. I love you. We’ve kissed, my darling. Remember the taste of my lips.” Blushing up a storm, the Eastern Islander continued in this vein for a few sentences, and slowly, the earthquake-like heaving eased. In a moment, all was still. The crimson cleared from Jin’s eye-fires.

  The Reds shifted off him, casting the juvenile Dragon wary looks. One, the largest, a battle-scarred female, said, “What is your name, Dragon?”

  “Jin,” he growled. “My name is – what happened to me? What am I?”

  HE IS BORN!! The Dragoness’ thunderous challenge rocked Isiki and Hualiama, but Makani steadied them with her paw. Jin is born! she roared, and raised a wingtip. Welcome to the fires of the Dragonkind, Jin the Teal-Brown Dragon. Touch wingtips with me – that’s it. Good. Now, this is Subuho, and Estarzi …

  But when it came to touching wingtips with Makani, Jin cast a stricken look at Isiki, who trembled violently. Sensing that the girl was on the verge of bolting, Lia took her hand in hers. Softly, she said, “I remember this feeling only too well. I think Grandion’s confused, too. I’ve not been a Dragoness long, Isiki, but I can tell you this – that’s definitely Jin in there. Still him. He’s a Nikuko warrior discovering how to be a Dragon. You’ll need to be patient with him, but if he gives you any trouble, I give you full permission to kick his scaly rump all the way back to Immadia.”

  Further afield, victorious roars resounded from Grandion’s Dragonwing.

  Jin twisted about, seeking her with a head that swung wildly and eyes leaping from unfocussed to focussed, before obviously losing their target. “Must I now choose, Dragonfriend? Must I?”

  “Jin, Isiki and Makani …” Lia sighed. How could she choose, or judge? It was not her place. Just look at how Jin’s fires yearned toward Makani, yet his concern was for Isiki. Changing what she had been about to blurt out, she said in a more considered tone, “Honestly? I haven’t the first idea. This is all brand new to me. I know that’s not the most helpful thing to say, but I haven’t even held Grandion’s hand as yet. Paws, aye. Hand to paw, done that. Human to Human love? I’m not any kind of expert.”

  Jin laughed uneasily. Isiki just ducked her head, seeming to fight away tears.

  “Look. There’s no precedent when it comes to what you have,” she urged. “Prejudice? You’ll find that everywhere in our Island-World. True-fires love? That’s rarer, a most precious commodity. So I ask you to trust and honour each other. Examine your hearts. Give this change all the time it deserves – you’re a Shapeshifter Dragon, Islands’ sakes – and speak to each other about your feelings and your fears. Perhaps your way can be a model for others to follow.”

  Lia the love-broker. Glancing between them, she felt a hint of mischief coming on.

  Suddenly, affecting an old woman’s voice, she cackled, “Mmm, part before my discernment, o mists of foreseeing, and reveal to me – ah, yeeeesss – I see a tasty one in your future, Isiki. Aye, a mystical warrior of the East shall fly across your skies. Watch the dawn skies, young Dragon Rider. All shall be well with you.”

  Jin was openly catching flies, while Makani chuckled and Isiki’s shoulders shook.

  “Look at that fine, strong back. Look at the meat on those looooovvveeelllyyy thighs!” she elaborated, smacking her lips like a trout. “He’s a catch, he is; you youngsters mark my words.”

  The Grey Dragoness guffawed openly. “Alright, you ancient crone. Shall I tell your fortune, too?”

  Hualiama let her breath whistle between her teeth. “There’s no law against love. No Island chains love. It will never be censured. It flies free and far, and its song is what you hear this night.”

  Chapter 19: No Roost for the Wicked

  Hualiama was Head and shoulders inside a Green Dragon’s belly wound when Grandion returned, owner of a decisive victory, after the rather lengthier affair of chasing down and slaying any stray Orange Dragons still lurking in the maze of columns and retrieving sundry monks from where they had hidden or concealed themselves. By then, the inclement night was far advanced. She had organised the Immadians, who now arranged transport for the monks, and a posse of seventy healer monks and Immadian volunteers worked alongside her, fixing and stitching Dragons’ wounds with Dragon-sized needles improvised from Immadian Dragonship parts.

  The first she knew of his arrival was a ribald whistle from one of the Immadian soldiers.

  Queen Shayitha tapped her thigh. “You done in there?”

  “Almost. Just stitching up the superior left ventricle. Healing’s much easier when you aren’t trying to fight boiling-hot, spurting blood – drat it – this is like wrestling oiled serpents.”

  “You’ll want to see this,” said the Queen. “And, do try to keep your opacity on.”

  “Aye? Well, I’ve more Dragon blood on me than a halfway decent palace would demand for a golden paint job,” Lia returned testily. Lie still, Xandior. Focus on healing. That necrotic poison’s awful, isn’t it?

  Xandior rumbled, I tossed that spavined slug into the Cloudlands. Your mate is here, Star Dragoness.

  The mate can wait.

  Grr. Too much rhyming with Shill. Where was the Shill-duo, anyways? She had not seen the Chrysolitic Dragoness in a few days. Nor Crackle, but that was less of a surprise. The Magma Dragon would turn up at Fra’anior Cluster, or she was a two-headed feral goat.

  Her minds, Shapeshifter and Human alike, raced off in differing directions.

  What was new about seeing a Tourmaline Dragon in the flesh? Odd, that whistle. Was the forbidden practice of Human women admiring male Dragons becoming passé? Crackle had mentioned meriatite as one of his boons to her. How, by all the stars above, could the explosive qualities of meriatite be harnessed? It was too volatile. Ja’al said there were more monks scattered along the route they had planned to take through the Spits, after he had taken the astounding precaution of evacuating every single one of Fra’anior’s secret and less-secret monasteries ahead of Azziala’s arrival – as foreseen by the Nameless Man. To her delight, he had revealed that she should see Chago and Inniora at their fortress deeper in the Spits.

  Too serious by half, that man. He could take a leaf out of Flicker’s scroll. Which reminded her – she chuckled with satisfaction as the last stitch drew tight cleanly, finally sealing the vital ventricle.

  Job done! Xandior, we’ll get a bigger patch on this. Once more …

  By my wings! he exclaimed as she unleashed her healing power within his abdomen. That feels … amazing. I am grateful, noble Star Dragoness.

  Hualiama wriggled out of the hole with Queen Imaytha’s help. She glanced about. “So, Gran-dee-yooon?”

  Her voice cracked. Twice – oh. Oh, fiery rainbows over Islands, was this Grandion? Aye! Knees buckling. Pulse racing – hurtling like an attacking Dragon! The balladeers knew nothing. Mercy! He was … overwhelming. Huge. Vital. Enfleshed. Biceps like a Dragon’s shoulders. Mouth-watering, the way his royal blue Immadian soldier’s trousers framed his muscular thighs – oh mercy, the minutiae of his appearance, his presence, sang in her every sense. So near. The staunch bent of his legs. The creases of the material behind his knees unaccountably set her belly churning. Bare toes curling against the rock like a Dragon’s talons; now she caught the heady scent of his draconic power and ran her eager eyes up the statuesque length of his physique and she must not look but she could not desist and what if he sensed her man-famished gawping and was her hair tangled? Shield intact? Garbled thoughts swirled through the overheated caldera of her brain. Sh
e had never been more aware of her lack of clothing and he was a Dragon with ebon hair, and she just wanted to stroke his tousled fringe back from his noble brow, but could she even reach up there to kiss him? Maybe if she stood on tiptoe. Maybe, she’d need a boulder. A kissing boulder.

  Great Islands, this was … Grandion?

  “Steady, woozy girl,” Imaytha whispered in her ear.

  Anything but steady. Her feet felt numb, her head, ready to spin off her shoulders with the song of stars pouring so richly through her mind.

  He sensed the tenor of her fires. Breaking off his briefing of the Immadian Commanders, the Tourmaline Shapeshifter swivelled toward her. The slow, entrancing smile writ upon his face engulfed her world, igniting every magical pathway of her being. The wonder, so piquant, she wondered that she had not died and joined the stars above, for the radiance of white-fires love roared so sweetly between her ears. She saw her luminosity illuminate his face. The gemstone eyes winked back at her, the only spots of colour in a world suddenly washed by starlight. People were putting up their arms to shield their eyes, while Dragons blinked and darkened their nictitating membranes, but she barely noticed them.

  “Hualiama,” he said.

  Ooh, lashings of gravelly manliness! His voice was a husky earthquake laced with the richness of draconic resonance, shivering up through her bare soles until her scalp tingled deliciously.

  “Dear breath of my third heart, you’re … dazzling.”

  “Stars shine … joyful,” she stammered.

  His smile broadened, bringing a soaring sensation like Dragonflight to her stomach. “For joyfulness?”

  “I’m over the moons. Shinier than … uh, all the moons, I guess?”

  “Shiny,” he agreed, appearing to lose his grasp upon rational thought.

  Suddenly, he was all Dragon, stalking his beloved with scorching ardour. His eyes fixated upon her, unblinking. Luring her into his domain. Seeking. Possessing – and curiously, it was that discrepancy between his Human form and his Dragonish behaviour that broke his spell. Hualiama giggled. When he growled, clearly narked by her incongruous response, she burst into laughter. The light streaming from her frame rippled in time with her chuckles, before it winked and appeared to fade back into her skin, although the glow upon her limbs took many seconds to fade.