Dragonstar (Dragonfriend Book 4)

by Marc Secchia

  Tearing her hair out, said Human-Lia, glancing up from the scroll she was poring over with Jinichi, Isiki and Elki. Saori worked with Brazo and Zanya in another corner of the cavern, teaching them the martial arts of her people. We’ve lost more Dragon Riders than I can bear –

  Yet I caught you making more today, groused the Tourmaline.

  Better some progress than none at all, she replied, apologising with her tone. Grandion … uh, Shill? What’s – a message?

  The girl listened to nothingness for several seconds, before saying, I expected this.

  What? Affurion demanded.

  “Numistar politely requests our presence at a summit meeting,” the Human girl said wryly.

  Grandion bared his fangs. “Politely?”

  “She’s being about as polite as this Tourmaline Dragon I happen to know is rending his enemies limb from limb and decorating the Cloudlands with the leftover bits,” Hualiama responded. “We need to fly. Now.”

  “Can’t do worse; can definitely do better,” Elki said brusquely. “Who’s going?”

  Affurion said, “Not all of our strength at once. Grandion, will you consider –”

  “Aye!” Grandion knew he sounded as if he had just cracked a chunk of granite in his jaw. “I will … consider. Affurion, Mizuki, Elka’anor, Jin, Qilong … Hualiama and Flicker, you all must go. We’ll split our strength. Blue-Star, take a detail of Chrysolitic Dragons with you and ensure some stay here with us. Two hundred Dragons for your escort. I’ve a tingling in my wingtips that says the second you head over that way, we’re going to encounter a little paean-of-hatred style entertainment over here.” He cracked his knuckles loudly. “I’m feeling a touch … belligerent, this evening. Ha-ha-harrrrrgggh!”

  * * * *

  At a hasty flying speed of twenty-five leagues per hour, the Dragons covered the half-circuit of Fra’anior Cluster in a mere two hours. Shill scouted the Flow plane and found no Hater Dragonships waiting in ambush. At least Numistar had not betrayed them – yet.

  The night was a clear, star-strewn expanse, as if Numistar had never flung her storm against Fra’anior Cluster. Great columns of steam boiled up out of the Cloudlands as the ice melted under the consistent volcanic heat, but dissipated on a gentle easterly breeze. Flicker wondered how much of a symbolic gesture that was, how much of the old hatred of the Onyx still burned in her icy veins. Quietly, he spoke with Hualiama while he relieved his stress by carefully combing out her unique sapphire-and-blue tresses with his dexterous talons. He had noticed Human girls did this to calm themselves, or as an act of friendship, although pulling hair out by the roots and fighting with the inevitable tangles in their pretty but impractical head adornment was a peculiar form of friendship indeed. Would dragonets pluck each other’s’ scales? Never.

  Aye. They knew the Winterborn was brewing up more than icicles. They just did not know what.

  The new peaks surrounding Fra’anior Cluster made Flicker’s wings itch with wrongness. How dare she? Azziala’s hubris was beyond reckoning.

  To think such a beast could have birthed the Island-World’s paramount treasure! He coiled tighter around Blue-Star’s neck at the thought, and purred as her strong, hot pulse thumped steadily against his sensitive neck. The vanilla scent of her hair teased his nostrils, reminding him that he must sniff out Numistar’s wiles. He must protect the Star Dragoness at all costs.

  At last they came to the place where Numistar rested amongst the bodies of thousands – literally, thousands – of Land Dragons. She had built a ramp upon the frozen carcasses, allowing her to throw herself bodily against the Cluster of Islands – but she had not been able to penetrate that inconceivable shield. Not so far. Again, his scales prickled with fear-anticipation. Surely annihilation of the Dragonkind on this scale must tip the Balance? Was Numistar’s goal a genocidal masterstroke?

  As the Ancient Dragoness greeted the delegation with the superiority everyone and every beast expected, the dragonet searched with his senses. Something would give, this night. Something would give, and it was not here.

  It was back where they had come from.

  Flicker relinquished her neck. Hurry back, Dragonfriend. I must to Grandion. I don’t know why, yet, but I must.

  Uh … alright? she said. Numistar was boasting and fulminating, taking the Star Dragoness to task for not making the breakthrough. Burliki. Vinzuki. Can I rely on you to wing Flicker back to Sarzun Dragonhold with all possible speed?

  Aye, both Dragons growled simultaneously. Tadao, aboard Vinzuki’s back, raised his bow in a salute as his mount communicated the order.

  No questions. Just obedience.

  Numistar’s hooded gaze tracked the departure briefly.

  For the following three hours, the Winterborn put Hualiama through her paces as they attempted to find a way through the shield, developing and implementing magical constructs in tandem. Both Dragons, tiny and gigantic, drew upon the power of the First Egg to augment their efforts. They hurled everything possible bar the moons and suns at the Air Breathers, and could not touch them.

  At last, the Ancient Dragoness boomed, This vector is unsustainable. Therefore, I have put in process a different experiment. After you have looked to the Queen of Immadia’s good health, I suggest you follow our bargain to the letter.

  Imaytha? Lia blurted out.

  The Winterborn ground out, Listen closely. The only way that shield can be disrupted is from the inside. You know that. I know that. Therefore, when you gain entry, you will use a Command I will teach you to disrupt the draconic psyche-linkage between the Air Breathers, taking down the shield.

  Entry? How –

  Silence, you babbling fool. I need to gain ingress to the caldera in order to confront the Hater Empress. My body is too large to fit between those Islands, however. So, which one shall I pluck off the rim wall? Which of the twenty-eight?

  Hualiama gaped at her, never having felt more flat-footed in her life. What?

  You heard me, foolish spawn of the Onyx. Which Island? Choose!

  No, no, she could not. Yet, was there any other way? If Numistar poured her immensity over one of the inhabited Islands – or, Fra’anior forbid, Gi’ishior itself …

  We agreed to preserve the integrity of the Cluster as best we could, Blue-Star. I am honouring my part by seeking the wisdom of one who grew up camped around this miserable bonfire, where the pathetic denizens of this realm gather to salute the greatest fraud that ever walked the paths of our Island-World.

  Third Island East of Gi’ishior, she gasped, through a throat that suddenly felt as if Fra’anior himself were pinching it from within. Would he ever forgive her? Oh, shell-father, if ever she had needed his wisdom … What are you doing to Imaytha? You promised –

  Of course, sneered the Ancient Dragoness. The quicker you return, the better the outcome will be for the pretty Immadian Queen. Fair warning, isn’t it? Otherwise … the one life for the many. That is Balance, and does not violate our terms.

  NO! Hualiama howled.

  Numistar’s immense laughter belled out over her. Don’t you want to tarry to learn the Word? Otherwise, it will all go to waste.

  Grandion, Grandion, Grandion …

  * * * *

  The Tourmaline Dragon whirled in the skies above Sarzun Dragonhold, frantic. “Where is Imaytha? Find Imaytha, now!”

  Makani said, “We’ve searched everywhere.”

  “SEARCH AGAIN!”

  Chapter 23: Volcanic Cracks

  DRAGONESS-Hualiama stared ahead. Not good. One Tourmaline Dragon flapping about in a fine panic, men and Dragons swarming all over Sarzun Dragonhold, and if she was not mistaken, there would be no sign of Queen Imaytha. Anywhere.

  Windroc spit! Affurion had furiously toasted a trio of inquisitive windrocs en route, blasting the eighteen-foot birds into bits with a measure of the same frustration she felt. Big as she was, Numistar was running rings around their Islands. This could not bode well. Lia had changed into her Dragoness form for
the battle-readiness this accorded her, but right now, the skies were clear of Dragonships, terrors, or any sign whatsoever of what the Winterborn intended.

  Perfect. They ran around in a bleating panic, like ralti sheep surprised by a voracious Dragon.

  Her powerful Dragon eyes narrowed, searching the cliffs, the Air Breathers, the lay of the Islands. Just a tingling against her senses … closer to the shield … a cloud? Ice-Raptors! And Chrysolitic Dragons? Together?

  That way! she ordered at once.

  Affurion banked; she gripped his shoulder with her talons. He alerted his Overminds out of habit, but Lia knew she had to focus on that group. Something about what they – Flicker! He was fighting them; with a low laugh, one of the hostile Chrysolitic Dragons froze him in a block of ice … and did the same to Imaytha! There she was. The tiniest flash of starlight off amethyst eyes sufficed to identify her.

  Raising his paw, one of the Chrysolitic Dragons called out, Ho, Dragonfriend! I wonder if Humans and dragonets pass through the shield, or if it is keyed only to the greater Dragonkind?

  Her wings seemed to beat through mud as she launched from Affurion’s back with a scream of fury.

  Granularity. She knew that the less granular the shield, in a magical sense, the smaller the energy output that was required to sustain it. Windrocs had bounced. A Human measured less than a third of a windroc’s wingspan. She had considered bellowing Amaryllion’s secret Dragon name to try to breach the shield, but perhaps she had not considered such an obvious vector – or, after seeing several windrocs, an unfortunate ralti sheep and numerous Dragons frazzled by the shield’s violent magic, she had not been willing to sacrifice a Human life. She could not reach … Flicker! Imaytha!

  One hundred feet. Eighty. Seventy!

  The Dragons hurled them at the shield. Hualiama’s wings were a blur, her body a spear.

  Humansoul screamed, On my mark!

  The Dragoness snarled, Aye! Affurion, turn back! Grandion!

  Dimly, she perceived the Brown Overmind hurling himself into a vertebrae-creaking turn, furling his double wings to avoid touching the pernicious shield.

  How had Numistar known? Had she understood this flaw all along? For as Imaytha and Flicker tumbled through the sky, they passed into that shimmering veil of draco-magical runes … and did not die.

  Humans were small enough. Flicker’s eyes blinked at her behind the ice, the secondary nictitating membranes having protected the orbs – or, his natural body heat had already begun to melt the ice.

  He lived!

  She transformed.

  Lia speared through the magic like a kingfisher darting into a terrace lake while hunting minnows. For a second, a frisson like passing through magical spiderweb brushed her body with icy filaments. Then she was hurtling toward the mountainous flank of an Air Breather, a lichen-encrusted, near-vertical slope of boulders. She reached out for the tumbling bodies. She gripped Flicker under the left arm. Imaytha’s frozen block, she clamped awkwardly against her torso.

  Dragonsoul, I need – transform!

  This time, the magic was wrenched out of her. Fire shrivelled her lungs. Too many times. This was a barrier of limited magical resources they had discussed and hypothesized about; Hualiama knew she had absolutely nothing left. She could barely flare her wings. Like the Flicker of old, who had caught her while she tumbled down a cliff, Hualiama felt a wrenching pain in her shoulders as she braked too sharply, and her powerful thigh muscles twinged as she struck the mountainside hard. Recover. Balance. Breathe fire!

  She instinctively tried to free Flicker first, but he was Dragonkind. He could hold his breath for many minutes longer than a Human. Imaytha was out of time. Swinging back her fist, Hualiama punched the ice encrusted over the Queen’s face with all the force of a Nuyallith form. Hai!

  Crack! The ice shattered. Imaytha gasped, clutching her nose.

  Poor Flicker. Behind the ice, he looked as if he was about to faint. Hualiama gently breathed heated air over him.

  The Queen touched her nose gingerly, trying to pinch off the bleeding. “Doze broke,” she said nasally, then chuckled with an agonised sound. “Dank oo fo dat. Good.”

  “Sorry,” said Lia, back-winging as she tried to bring her burdens to some kind of safe landing.

  “Sorry?” sniffed Flicker. The only part of him that protruded from the ice block and could move was his muzzle. Naturally, he began to employ it at once. “What were you thinking, Lia, flying after us? Gaily leaping off the Isle of Sanity? I tell you, when Grandion sees what you’ve done, he’s going to bawl you out from here to – incoming!”

  She ducked, expecting a thirty-tonne draconic hooligan to flatten her against the mountainside. Instead, a startled man did much the same.

  “Oof!” said Grandion. “Transformation didn’t – hey! Claws in, you little windroc.”

  Mmm, I’ve been meaning to get my claws into you for a few seasons, purred Dragonsoul, but she sheathed her talons. “Sorry, Grandee-yummy.” Oops.

  The Tourmaline’s eyebrows crawled in startlement.

  Let me out! Let me out, you flea-bitten rat, her Human complained.

  Thankfully, Grandion was thinking a bit faster than the part of Lia’s brain that was busy slavering over having a virile man sitting on her head, at that point. He reached out and grabbed for handholds. “Don’t drop the Queen.”

  “What about me?” squeaked Flicker’s muzzle.

  The gemstone eyes dropped to consider Lia’s unexpected captive. “Actually, I quite like him like this. Anyone have a piece of string handy to tie his yapper shut?”

  Jin the Dragon! Another Shapeshifter popped into being. Having evidently learned from Grandion’s misadventures, he managed to time his transformation to perfection. The Brown Dragon looked them over. “Huh. Quite the loving tangle here, eh?”

  “Deave me oud oddit,” mumbled Imaytha.

  “Wait!” Hualiama’s wing gesture, more than her cry, stopped Brazo and Zanya in their tracks. “Let’s think about this. We can get Humans and dragonets through. How many Humans do we need?”

  “How many brawny Immadian soldiers does Imaytha want to daub her broken nose?” Flicker still managed a verbal smirk, despite his icy captivity.

  “Prince Qilong and Commander Darrul,” Jin said at once. “They’re both excellent archers and saboteurs, and that girlfriend of the Commander’s –”

  “Girlfred?” exclaimed Imaytha.

  Flicker snorted in annoyance. “Shut your stupid fly catcher, Jin.”

  “Whad girlfred?”

  Grandion growled, “Now’s hardly the time, o Queen. We’re rather preoccupied with hanging off a Dragon-sized cliff discussing burgling the Empress of Dragon Haters’ stronghold. Meantime, we hope no-one’s actually noticed this little incursion, or we’ll have five hundred Dragonships to deal with on our own.”

  “Wan doo congradulade her,” Imaytha protested, wriggling as Lia tried to summon whatever spark of healing magic she might have left. “He’d a cadge – dan eddyone dunderstand me?”

  “We dunderstand perfeggedly,” Flicker grinned.

  Hualiama said, “I’ll gladly promote him to royal doormat if you’d like, Imaytha.”

  The amethyst eyes glittered. “Da rodal doordob?”

  “Done.”

  In short order, they had lined up two more Shapeshifter Dragons, Prince Qilong, Isiki, Sumio, seven handpicked Immadian soldiers with skills Hualiama didn’t want to ask too diligently about, including Darrul and Nyzura, left a vocally underwhelmed Makani the Grey behind, as well as Mizuki, gained themselves a Chago and a certain old partner in crime, Inniora, and added over six hundred white-pawed pickpockets to the mix.

  Time to go beard the fox, Commander Darrul suggested.

  * * * *

  Flicker, freed at last from his prison but far from rid of the stigma of being put forward for the job of royal doorknob, set about his real business with alacrity. He briefed the dragonets:

  Every warren must be
roused. I will divide you by teams to scour the greater and the lesser Islands. Fly fast but by secretive ways. These Dragons and Humans have no idea, but we will be the force that wins this war. Even that thundering ice-Dragon will bow to the superiority of the dragonet-kind.

  He placed a picture into their minds. These blue robes. This kind of hat. This new, golden face mask. These are Humans of great evil. The Great Onyx demands to be avenged, and we are the paw of his justice. If there is no further signal, we will attack every one of these at dawn. Divide the spoils, but ensure you attack each of these Humans from at least four different vectors, simultaneously, to ensure the assault succeeds. That’s – eleven hours from now.

  Aye, warren-father Flicker, chorused the dragonets.

  Go.

  Ha. Warren-father! The accolades kept mounting up.

  Today, to his surprise, this mattered little. Flicker clenched his tiny fists. Greater deeds were at paw; deeds that would make or break any dragonet, not to speak of his Island-World.

  For thee, Fra’anior, he vowed. Even the tiniest of paws are for thee.

  His every scale shivered. The Great Onyx smiled upon them with terrible majesty!

  * * * *

  The Dragons startled as the flock of dragonets split up, roughly one-third flying East and two-thirds to the West. In seconds, even their pristine white forms were lost amidst the shadows of rock, overhang and foliage.

  Grandion said, “Flicker?”

  The dragonet bowed. “As we discussed, o Tourmaline.”

  “Good. Hualiama, where shall we find your mother?”

  “My best guess would be at the Royal Palace,” she replied quietly. “Or, down in the Air Breather that used to hold Chenek Stronghold. I can’t imagine Azziala would be hiding deep. Do you think she could be plotting to gain the First Egg?”

  “Or, command of Numistar herself?” Isiki put in.

  Grandion eyed the Star Dragoness balefully. “Good. Freeing the royal family is a stratagem we have, of course, agreed upon. Let’s keep every eye peeled –” including the Dragoness’ left eye, which was busy slavering over his shoulder muscles, thrown into sharp relief by his posture of hanging from the cliff “– and every Dragon sense alert. Lia will brief us on the layout of the Royal Palace as we fly. First, I will try to transform.”