by Marc Secchia
“Don’t you dare hurt her,” Flicker growled, baring his fangs.
“We won’t.”
One of the others counted silently on his fingers, One, two … three.
Flicking the thin covering off the sleeping girl, the apprentices pounced. A strong hand muffled her shrieks as they hastily bundled Lia into a sack. She kicked and thrashed, trying to bite the hand that muffled her cries. Flicker almost assailed them. She was terrified! Lia managed to elbow one of them in the jaw, but the young man only laughed, and with at least six bodies holding her down, Lia had no chance.
“Shut the trap,” hissed Ja’al, tying the sack shut. “This is a friendly kidnapping.”
The sack shifted. A muffled voice emerged, “Uh, Ja’al? Is that you?”
“No, it’s a Dragon. What do you think?”
Three of them grabbed the rough canvas sack and lifted Hualiama off the bed.
Flicker? Her voice sounded in his mind. Where’s my brave protector?
Laughing in the corner, he said.
You! I’m going to … I’ll peel you like a fruit!
Chuckling wickedly, the monks trotted up the corridor with their captive, who sounded rather underwhelmed by the experience. Flicker flitted sentinel-like behind them.
“Where’s Master Ja’alkon?”
“Snoring,” said Ja’al, with a wicked chortle. “Terraba-juice in your drink will do that.”
“Good. Hurry. Where are the others?”
“Already outside.”
With the excitement of a troop of dragonet hatchlings attending their first communal singing, the apprentices filed out of the main temple building into the cool pre-dawn gloom. They jogged along a path Flicker had noticed previously, which led to an outcropping above the crater lake which the dragonets favoured for teaching fledglings how to fly. Flicker narrowed his eyelids to an anxious crack, unsure how Lia would respond to this after her experience of being thrown off a Dragonship. They handled the sack with due care on the climb, however, soon appearing on the ledge two hundred feet above the water.
As her tousled head emerged from the canvas, Lia spluttered, “I’m not sure I appreciate–”
“The new apprentice will remain silent,” said Ja’al. His sapphire-blue eyes sparked noticeably. Flicker chirped animatedly to himself. A Human who had magic? Fascinating. “In a moment, you will demonstrate the high jump for us. Usually the apprentice is stripped for their maiden flight, but given your special situation, we have prepared a modest outfit for the occasion. Put this on.”
Lia took the garment in hand. It took her a few moments to figure out their plan. She scowled, “It’s a monkey suit.”
Ja’al said, “Oh, is it?”
One of the others, a thickset young man called Ya’orra, chuckled, “As you are such a fine dancer, Lia, we felt you might brighten our morning with a monkey dance, first.”
A treacherous snort of fire escaped Flicker’s muzzle.
Lia glared at him. “In my future kingdom, dragonet, you will be summarily demoted from royal companion to royal door-stopper. Do we understand each other?”
“Oh, not at all,” said Ja’al. The monk bowed to Flicker. “We do not insult the noble beasts of the air, Hualiama. Flicker, you have my permission to dream up a suitable punishment.”
The dragonet stretched lazily. “I like this Human tradition called hazing.”
* * * *
Dancing in a monkey suit was not so bad, until Hualiama discovered the itchy-powder the crafty apprentices had placed inside. This made her scratching rather too authentic. Lia begged to be allowed to jump, but her classmates forced her to keep capering and aping monkey noises for a further twenty minutes before allowing her the ‘privilege’ of jumping.
Great Islands, the water looked as though it was a mile away. Cold sweat beaded Lia’s neck. She had to do this, but her feet seemed to have put down roots.
“Need a friendly push?” Ja’al asked.
Lia knew that her stricken look gave far too much away.
“Look, Lia, we’re out to have fun. Still, given your story, there’s not one of us who’d force you to jump.”
“This is the tradition, isn’t it?” she asked, trying to decide if the wobbling of her heart was due to the height, or to his gentle understanding. He saw her. All the jewels of royal Fra’anior could not buy such a precious commodity.
“Aye.”
She cleared her throat hurriedly. “Any other advice?”
“Keep your body straight and don’t hit the water side-on, or you’ll be wearing the bruises for the next month.”
The Human mind was capable of peculiar forms of lunacy, Lia decided, and one of those was leaping off a rock into space. Nothing to it, except the sensation of her stomach flying up into her throat, chills running up and down her spine, the wind roaring endlessly in her ears as she fell–take a breath, idiot! Smack! She fell deep into a world of blue, her soles stinging, heart pounding, bubbles effervescing all around her body as she kicked for the faraway, silvery-gleaming surface.
She whooped as she broke into the air.
“Clear the way!” hollered Ja’al, making shooing motions with his hands.
Hualiama struggled through the water, weighed down by the monkey suit.
Shouting, “This one for the Dragon!” the monks came pouring off the rock high above her, a shower of young monks in blue robes fluttering through the air.
To Lia’s shock, Ja’al caught himself just above the surface. Levitation? Grinning at her disbelief, he shucked his robe to reveal a set of abdominals which could easily have doubled as paving stones, tossed the garment to the water’s edge, and then gracefully upended as he ‘dived’ into the cool volcanic lake. Lia wanted to hit somebody or something. Why could she not enjoy that power? And what madness had bitten the serious young monk? Now he was the leader of all the mischief-making? She certainly preferred this Ja’al to the unsmiling one.
Later, at lunch, Hualiama’s task was to wait on the Masters at their table, serving them fresh berry juices and wines, a selection of freshly baked breads, and spicy baked trout from the lake.
Ja’al whispered in her ear.
“No … no!” stammered Lia, turning a hot shade of pink. “I couldn’t.”
“It’s his birthday.”
“I am not singing–”
“Well, we learned the Dragons’ Praise birthday song, didn’t we?”
Lia pinched his arm. “Have I told you how little I like you?”
“Not more than ten times since this morning.” Ja’al drew a hand-harp from behind his back. “Oh, look, I just happen to have an instrument with me. Shall I play for you, or would you prefer to accompany yourself?”
“I’d prefer to bite you.” Her treacherous mind served up an image of Ja’al just before he dived into the lake. Perhaps something other than a bite was in order …
Ja’al strummed an overly dramatic set of chords upon his harp, quieting the dining hall. “Masters, tutors and apprentices,” he called. “Today is Master Jo’el’s birthday. We apprentices have arranged a special surprise. Hualiama will sing the Dragons’ Praise for our noble Master Jo’el, may the sulphurous fires of the Great Dragon himself ever burn within him.”
He made to pick out a chord, when the entire apprentice class yelled, “Stand up!”
“Oh, aye, up on this bench,” he said.
Lia bit the inside of her cheek as she took Ja’al’s hand to climb up onto the bench. He had elegant hands, which seemed to betray the gentility of his heart, and her disloyal fingers lingered on his before she allowed her hand to drop.
With a flash of those depthless eyes, Ja’al said, “And …”
“We can’t see her!”
“Aren’t they so mean?” he whispered to Lia, under cover of the laughter filling their great underground hall. “Up on the table with you.”
Oh, she was definitely going to have Amaryllion visit! Cheeks burning fit
to combust, Lia stepped up onto the long trestle table. There was worse to come.
Their final dare was to kiss Master Jo’el on the cheek.
Chapter 11: Avalanche
ON the evening of her rest day, four weeks later, Lia sat on the highest point of the volcano’s rim wall, resting her back against a boulder. To her left hand, the still crater-lake collected the last ruddy fires of suns-set, as darkly mysterious as Ja’al’s eyes, yet gilded with strands of twin-suns fire. Dragonets dive-bombed the waters in search of fish. Close at hand, she saw a mother dragonet teaching three hatchlings the basics of flight, angling her wings in an instructional manner. To her right hand, the tangled green wall of Ha’athior Island, four miles from its base to the cooler heights up top, curved away northward until it grew misted with distance and height. She could never tire of this view.
Moodily, she wondered which females Flicker was chasing this time.
She was stuck in a volcano stuffed to the rim with gorgeous, fit young monks, all of whom intended to make vows to the Great Dragon. Picking up a small stone, Lia lobbed it crossly into the lake. Celibacy. What was the point, as Flicker had inquired, a trifle archly? She admired their religion. They were so dedicated and frugal, and yet in an indefinable way, full of life and Dragon fire. She could not spoil that. Not even if she knew that her great Dragon, Amaryllion, wanted no worship.
Her Ancient Dragon? My, how the idea tickled her tongue. His counsel that morning had been to be patient, to bide her time and learn from the monks. Ha. He obviously had neither seen her daily humiliation in the arena, nor fathomed the storms in her heart whenever she dared to consider her family’s fate.
A soft footfall made Lia startle. “Ja’al.”
Gathering his robe about him, the young monk sat down on the boulder beside her, almost but not quite touching her arm. “Islands’ greetings, Princess,” he said, drolly. “To which Islands do thy thoughts soar?”
Lia kept her eyes downcast. “Tomorrow’s expedition.”
“Ah. We go to find the Nameless Man. If you’re wondering, Master Jo’el has assigned you the twin slabs of granite as bodyguards.”
“Not you?”
“Why, am I nicer than them?”
He said it lightly, but tension roiled beneath his words. “It hurts my neck to look up at Hallon and Rallon,” she returned, aware of a similar undercurrent in her tone. “Do I understand that you hail from Ya’arriol Island?”
“Aye. Hua’gon and I come from a family of ten brothers. He’s the oldest, and I am five years younger, the fourth in our clan. You’ll get to meet them all.”
“Oh.”
Somehow, Lia had imagined that Ja’al would be an orphan, like her. Had he entered the Great Dragon’s service out of choice rather than necessity? So yawned the gap between their lives. The gentle excitement in his voice told her that Ja’al had a family who loved him, and parents who had not dumped him on Gi’ishior for Dragon-fodder. He had no appreciation of how deep her soul-scars reached–and better he did not, Lia told herself. She could never wish this on anyone else.
“I see you’re wearing a Dragon’s scale,” said Ja’al.
Lia chuckled, “It’s a White Dragoness’ scale. It took me two months to figure out how to bore a hole through it.” At his upraised eyebrow, she explained, “Master To’ibbik showed me how to build a diamond-tipped bore. That’s the only way to penetrate a Dragon’s scale without enormous force, and it still took three hours of drilling. Now I have a unique necklace.”
“As if you need outward adornment,” he remarked. “It suits you.” Lia failed to deny a blush from sizzling upward from the region of her belly, but he did not appear to notice. “Lia, where do you go on these days off?”
“I wish I could say,” she retorted, rather less apologetically than she had intended.
Her companion sighed. “I have to admit, it’s weird having a girl in the monastery. I don’t know what I expected–a spoiled brat, perhaps–”
“What?”
“Easy, dragonet!” he placated her. “Perhaps, a Princess who had no idea what it might be like to blister her hands from hard work, or take a blow to the ribs and get up again. Great Islands, was I wrong. Just when I think I’ve understood something about you, Lia, I discover there’s another layer beneath a layer.”
“I’m not deliberately hiding–”
“No. But you do have secrets. Your ability to speak Dragonish, for example.”
Lia opened and closed her mouth like a trout sieving water for food. The deep blue of his eyes captivated her, causing her to shiver despite the warmth of the breeze. How had he guessed?
Ja’al said, “Lia, there’s something came to tell you. Please don’t hate me.”
“I wouldn’t.” Hualiama bit her lip, wondering at the melancholy undertone in his words. If he was building up to a confession of love–was this not a strange approach? Yet he had sought a time for them to be alone together.
“Lia …” he groaned softly, sounding so anguished that the wound in her stomach twinged. “Lia, when we return from Ya’arriol Island, I will be taking my vows.”
At once, she replied, “That’s fantastic, Ja’al. I’m so pleased for you.”
Her lie sounded so pathetic, she was surprised he did not snort his contempt.
Instead, with sober mien, the monk noted, “I respect you too much for there to be secrets between us, Lia, and I hope that you respect me equally. You see, when you say you dream of Dragons–let me put it this way–my powers give me insight into your feelings. You struggle to conceal your heart for my sake. It is so very principled of you, I want to weep–for I am irrevocably committed to the Great Dragon’s service.”
Fragile her hopes, and so easily shattered. Lia stared at her toes, fighting a tearful fury that threatened to completely unravel her. Ja’al–toss him into a Cloudlands volcano! His hand rested upon her arm, briefly, a touch that made her tingle as though an electrical storm brewed around her. Life’s tempests. Here came yet another, roaring over her in full spate. Loneliness. Fear for her family. Jealousy, truth be told, that Ja’al should choose his vows over her. Was she forever fated to be little Lia, her Island passed over by all?
Bleakly, she said, “Some secrets are not given to us to reveal, Ja’al.”
“Aye. But to some, it is given to love.”
Love? Now, of all times, he dared … that word? She erupted, “You try to keep loving when life drags your heart through lava flows and tosses it off the Island!”
“Lia–”
“Don’t Lia me!” she snapped. “Don’t you see how hard I’ve tried, Ja’al? Islands’ sakes, you infuriate me like nothing I’ve ever … I do respect you. Admire you, even. I’ll tell you a secret, and may Fra’anior himself have mercy upon my soul–I don’t just dream about Dragons. I dream about flying with them. I dream of falling over the Islands in love with a Dragon!”
She sought to shock the young monk, yet all she saw in the deep blue pools of his eyes was acceptance, and it shivered the foundations of her Island. How dare he understand? How dare he be so cursed noble, standing immovable upon the peak of his religion, yet be exquisitely attuned to her feelings and needs?
Molten fury, mingled with shame, spat out of her. “Go on, say it! I’m depraved. I’m a wicked, wicked … aberration. I deserve to burn in the nearest volcano!”
“Shh.”
“So help me, I will bite those fingers!” Lia snarled around his hand, spitting with rage at being hushed like a child.
“Listen. Listen to me! Mercy, you and your passions, you’re such a little Dragoness!” Only Ja’al’s wry smile kept her from blowing her top again. “Tell me, where’s the sin in great love?”
Hualiama wrinkled her nose at him. “Must I teach you the tenets of your faith, monk?”
“Lia, my faith isn’t unshakable.”
The words he left unspoken, hurt more than he could possibly know. Ja’al meant it
kindly and without rancour, but the vulnerability in his manner trumpeted his true, conflicted feelings. She was the nexus. The cause and the pain. How could she drag him away from the very faith that defined his life? She should rather leap off Ha’athior’s cliffs!
Suddenly, a decision crystallised in her mind. Should Amaryllion allow it, she would take Ja’al to meet the Ancient Dragon. He deserved no less.
Unsteadily, desperate to conceal her distress, Hualiama said, “As you are so committed to your vows, Ja’al, perhaps I might help you to develop your faith.”
“Oh? How is that?”
“I shall wake you in the mornings with sweet flirtation, make shameless moon-eyes at you every hour of every day, and attempt in every possible way–”
“I surrender already!” His exaggerated shout of horror drew a hoot of genuine laughter from her. “Oh, thou shameless Princess, what faith shall I learn by my inevitable capitulation to your charms? Nay, not the pout! I can’t stand the pout.”
“Then I must depart the monastery.”
“I forbid that.”
“Really?” Lia waggled an eyebrow at him. “Your name is Master Jo’el?”
Ja’al folded his arms, his eyes dancing. “Any other options?”
“I shall issue a royal decree that you are to wear your shirt at all times, for no chaste and incorruptible monk should have a right to flaunt such a magnificent set of pectorals.”
She had thought Ja’al could not be embarrassed. Flaming of cheek, he toppled her with a playful shove. “You are impossible–great Islands!”
A Dragon shot by overhead. He was so close, the down-stroke of the Dragon’s wingtip struck Ja’al atop his shaven head. Barely had the young monk tumbled across Lia’s body–protecting her–when another two Dragons raced by in hot pursuit, the shockwave of their passage punching her eardrums.
The first Dragon, a sixty-five foot juvenile, flared his wings as he dodged the aggressors’ fireballs. Recognition struck Hualiama like an Island-avalanche loosed by an earthquake; her pulse pounded inside her ears with deafening hammer blows. That young Dragon was a vibrant gemstone colour, the very Tourmaline Dragon she had dreamed about!