by Marc Secchia
GRAAARRGGH!! howled Azhukazi, lurching about like a drunken Sylakian lout. GRROOUURRGHH!
Oh! She sniggered at the sight of a purple spike ball some five feet in diameter stuck beneath the Dragon’s right hind paw. That would be Iridiana, as unconventional as ever. Her spikes had pierced his paw through in several places. As Azhukazi arched his neck to try and bite off the offending Chaos manifestation, Ardan promptly pummelled the bigger Dragon again – working relentlessly to provide Aranya the opportunity she needed, only she had to keep battling the deployment of Azhukazi’s unique bone-life-grounded power as it morphed and changed, as sly and elusive as the Dragon himself. Five or six times she sensed him acquiring control, only for her Storm-driven starlight to infiltrate his constructs like water seeping into the faintest of fault lines in a terrace lake wall. She was the impermeable coating, creating a repulsion effect akin to the interaction of oil and water – her response was purely instinctual, but Aranya was terrified of what might transpire if she failed. This required her utmost concentration; once again she was denied opportunity for outright attack.
Frustration boiled her Dragoness blood!
Iridiana snickered, “Having trouble there, Azhukazi?”
“GET OFF!”
“Can’t make me.”
In that moment of oh-so-feminine distraction, Ardan hammered Azhukazi in the chest with both fists pumping furiously, and the battle rolled away. The two males clashed violently, tearing scales off each other as the Necromancer tried his one trick over and over and over again, and the Shadow flayed his hide for the trouble – neck and wings, flanks and underbelly. Did Azhukazi know nothing else?
Even as the thought crossed her mind, Azhukazi reacted. Aranya had the barest millisecond to warn Iridiana and Ardan as the Iolite Blue switched tactics – had he just stolen the idea out of her mind? Lightning traced with ice flared all around his body at once, forming a thick, impermeable layer of armour that levered Iridiana’s strange form free of his paw with a loud grating of spines against bone and drove Ardan away, momentarily stunned by multiple flashing arcs of electrical overload. The Necromancer Dragon whirled and snapped at the Chaos Shifter with incredible speed –
Flowers! Aranya projected into the girl’s mind, fearing she could not see the attack.
Petals blossomed in her perception, mirroring the dracofloral form that slipped between Azhukazi’s champing fangs, and then the girl was laughing upon his tongue, her strategy matching that which Zip and Aranya had many times worked successfully on angry Dragons – distracting them by playing the tease, throwing insults about and otherwise disparaging their deep-seated sense of honour.
Yet Iridiana’s mental state was another matter, a mad vortex of lavender-spitting sparks. Get me out – Aranya – please! I can’t –
Stay! Trust me …
I CAN’T! shrieked the Shifter, pinned in place as Aranya wrestled Azhukazi’s domineering magical force to a standstill. She felt like a flower herself; a flower trapped and bruised beneath a thundering waterfall.
The greater her opposition, the greater he seemed to become. Azhukazi’s power swelled monstrously against her mind, battering and blasting her without pause until dark spots almost obliterated Aranya’s vision. Only the shrieking of her Storm could hold this beast, and that by the barest claw hold of her talon tips. He wielded the Thoralians’ awesome power mixed with his own peculiar form of fire life-dominance, and it was slowly but surely crushing her will and capacity to resist.
Change the odds. Unbalance him.
Inspired by a crazy idea, Aranya slipped a fear to the forefront of her mind. A false weak female vision that might just fool –
The Necromancer Dragon’s fire eyes darkened entirely to black as he mined his greatest powers, and then he flicked his long, brutish muzzle upward and slurped Iridiana down his throat!
Zip screamed, Petal, what are you doing?
Aranya enfolded the Chaos Shifter with her light in exactly the same way as she had succoured her best friend’s soul, only this time, she consciously enforced their separation – not acting with an overload of motherly protective panic, but deliberately playing her gambit to its logical end. She held Iridiana by the merest thread of connection, fed through the dragonets, for that was the only way she could imagine she might penetrate Azhukazi’s tyrannical mental hold.
Failure would doom Iridiana.
Suddenly, the Remoyan’s scream terminated in a gasp of wonder. Oh …
As the Chaos Shifter slid three quarters of the way down into the Iolite Blue’s primary food stomach, Aranya pulsed with her tightest possible mental focus, Do this, precious Nyahi.
Muted as it was, the Immadian felt and heard her kin sister’s trusting, chaotic transformation take hold and lodge deep in Azhukazi’s throat. Returned to her cactus form, the four-foot spikes lodged the Chaos Shifter immovably deep in his craw, in the place where the working of his massive throat muscles could not dislodge it.
Batten down the hatches! Zip shouted in her mind, melding her strength into Aranya. Here came Leandrial too, finally breaking past the Iolite Blue’s psychic barriers to bring her formidable mental prowess to their aid.
It took an everlasting hiatus, but Azhukazi began to choke on the obstruction. His superheated breath sizzled around Iridiana’s bulky form, before drawing back toward his labouring lungs with an agonised whistling sound. Throttling! Frustrating his fires. The Dragon convulsed in a blind panic, releasing his inner fires and magical powers in a devastating barrage that nonetheless failed to dislodge or even harm her, because she had all of Aranya and Zuziana layered around her person by way of mystical armour, and they in turn leaned heavily upon Leandrial’s resources. Again and again the stricken Iolite Blue struck, but succeeded only in burning and blasting the inside of his throat. He tore at the obstruction instinctively with his talons, doing himself greater damage than anything Ardan had managed so far.
Then, he stilled. Eyes suffused with manic hatred fell upon Aranya.
The fury of his madness was like a mountain unleashed upon her. O Daughter of Onyx – BEGONE!!
Merciless. Immense. A sledgehammer belted her overwrought mind into the darkest beyond.
Aranya never felt her crumpling knees touch the ground.
* * * *
Ardan swatted unhappily at the blue pest. What?
Ari-Ari-Ari! Save! shrieked Sapphire.
He forced open his eyes to behold an unbelievable sight smearing across his unstable vision – Asturbar, cradling Aranya’s nude Human form in his huge arms as they slid across the ruby floor right past his bewildered nose, whilst Azhukazi’s massive paw descended from above, his every muscle popping with the effort of splattering the pair into a bloody pulp!
The twin shocks galvanised him.
His paw shot out and yanked the Marshal backward. KERRUMP!! Azhukazi’s wrist rebounded off the soldier’s helmet, delivering a stunning blow Ardan would have preferred to provide himself. Girl-stealing traitor! Backstabbing slug! His attempt to Shadow them out of harm’s way was a stuttering misfire, however, even as he realised that Asturbar must surely have mistaken Aranya for Iridiana. Otherwise, he’d skin the fool alive!
A case of raging draconic jealousy only yanked his brain back to full awareness. The Iolite Blue, coughing and burping spurts of gelid grey smoke like a dyspeptic toad, gathered himself against a column just fifty feet from Ardan’s position, squashing three soldiers beneath his paws as he launched back toward them, clearly intent upon finishing the Star Dragoness once and for all. Finally, he understood her strategy – almost brutal in its elegance – for she had exploited Iridiana to hoodwink the Iolite Blue, and then thrown all her might into protecting the girl thing once she was stuck inside Azhukazi’s throat. The Necromancer knew this too. Golden blood and vermilion fire dribbled from his lower lip as he glared hatefully at them, for Ardan had gathered Asturbar, Aranya and several dragonets between his paws, and then he charged!
The Star’s consci
ousness flickered. A … Ah …
Shadow!
Perhaps it was Asturbar’s first experience of being handled in this way, for the soldier ducked reflexively as Azhukazi hurtled right through their spectral bodies. The Iolite Blue stormed onward to demolish what had to be an irreplaceable national treasure, Shan-Jarad’s monolithic ruby throne.
GNAA-URK! The Necromancer choked on his own vomitus. GURK-GURK!
… Ir-ah …
Uncaring of herself, the Star bathed Iridiana with her healing power.
Azhukazi gouged again at his own throat, making that toad-like coughing sound. Huge as his talons were, the iron bands of his own muscles still protected Iridiana from the outside and Aranya safeguarded her within, even in her semiconscious state.
The Princess moaned, Ast – ug, mercy – flare …
Asturbar cried, Nyahi! Flare – now!
Flare? Whiteness towed the Shadow Dragon irresistibly into a beautiful space, where the devastating goodness of starlight illuminated Chaos from within, before blossoming irresistibly within the Necromancer Dragon’s flesh. It seemed he saw twice – once with the eyes of his spirit, for the pure connection between Star and Chaos, and a second time with his Dragon sight, tracing the course of incandescent fires as they immolated flesh and nerves, magical pathways and bone. Azhukazi’s hide glowed like a crazily cracked pavement backlit by white fires across an area thirty feet in diameter, before it crumbled away as searing dust the colour of a perfect Immadian night’s frost.
The Necromancer Dragon thumped down on one knee. No … cannot die …
A mauve butterfly dragonet fluttered out of the gaping, charred hole carved through his neck and upper chest region, appearing in that instant as if the mere flip of a butterfly’s wings had shivered the course of the Island-World. Perhaps that was the definition of the chaos effect.
Or should that be called the Iridiana effect?
Ardan began to smile as Aranya stirred purposefully, before a formidable explosion smashed against his ear canals – WHOOOMMP!
Even in his demise, Azhukazi’s magic waxed spectacular. A pyre of sooty black fire roared up to the ceiling a hundred feet overhead, before clearing to reveal the brilliant sapphire bones of his skeleton – despite missing a few pieces which Aranya and Iridiana’s cooperation had vaporised, the whole edifice stood proudly erect for a breathless moment before collapsing as bones rightly should.
Ardan eyed the spectacle distrustfully, muttering to himself, “Really, really dead this time?”
Further back in the hall, rubble tumbled to a standstill with tinkling overtones created by the presence of many jewels. His jewel! The Dragon tilted his muzzle to examine Aranya’s pallid aspect. There, a flicker of pulse in her throat! Gorgeous long lashes – how had he never noticed them so keenly before – dipping gracefully over those beloved cheeks …
An amethyst eye chinked open. Her chapped, scarred lips trembled as she breathed, “Very bad joke, my Shadow.”
His three hearts danced!
* * * *
Aranya glanced briefly at the bone pile they had created, before checking anxiously for Sapphire and her brood. They had defended her heroically, but now they lay scattered like white petals upon the scratched, fire-scarred ruby floor of Shan-Jarad’s palace. Fire life pulsed weakly within each fallen body. For her own part, she was not sure she’d ever move again. She felt as if she had been razed by an avalanche called Azhukazi.
Nearby, Iridiana carolled, We did it, Boots! Then, the mauve butterfly dragonet shrilled in comical amazement, Boots, why are you cuddling Aranya?
WHAT? Ardan thundered.
The man shot to his feet, babbling, Wasn’t! What? Protecting … um … His stricken eyes leaped between the dragonet and her as Aranya’s multi-coloured locks swirled in unconscious response to Ardan’s bourgeoning relief. Sorry! So sorry!
Of course, he had thought he was protecting Iridiana!
Just grabbed the wrong unclad derriere, Zip ribbed Asturbar, causing him to turn a shade of purple in keeping with his girlfriend’s obsession with mauve.
Mauve and amethyst! Could that be the clinching proof?
Mercy, illogic ruled the day.
For her part, Iridiana’s squeals of mirth detonated in a flash of her signature draconic fireworks, as a sparkling stream of fiery purple jubilation frolicked about the columns up near the ceiling. She warbled, I love you, you silly soldier! I love, love, love … everything …
That sounded very much like forgiveness, Aranya judged gladly, casting about for her abused and ruined clothing before trying to decide if she had strength left to conjure up a personal opacity shield. Not every denizen of Herimor and Wyldaroon wanted to see their deity naked, nor did she care to deal with Shan-Jarad in her current state.
This Princess could still afford a touch of dignity.
The bones rattled as though stirred by a foulness beyond death.
What felt like twenty back vertebrae popped unhappily as Aranya twisted awkwardly to inspect the phenomenon. A faint greenish light emanated from Azhukazi’s skeletal remains, utterly out of keeping with their sapphire colour. His Necromantic essence still lived – if that was the even the right word! Somehow, it coalesced out of the bones, obeying a magical imperative Aranya sensed very strongly that she did not ever want to understand.
She gazed inquiringly at Asturbar, who barked immediately, We have to crush his bones, Princess. It’s the only way.
Aranya sighed gustily. Ardan, would you go dance, please?
With pleasure, thou my treasure beyond measure.
Well, no poet was he, but his words breathed bright flame into the centre of her heart. Slinking low with predacious glee, the Shadow Dragon took a second to draw his lashing tail well out of anyone’s path before he pounced upon Azhukazi’s remains. Boom! Bla-da-bam! Graaa-BOOM! Grim laughter and thundering Dragon stomping! Poor Shan-Jarad cast suspicious looks at his ceiling, for whatever passed for dancing in the Western Isles, what it lacked in refinement it made up for in pulse-pounding enthusiasm. Aranya imagined she could hear the tribal drums pounding, and then laughed at the notion. She had no idea, had she? The only hitch was that the bones did not wish to obey. Flung apart, they wriggled back together again. Snapped in one or two places, they reformed themselves seamlessly. The green mist thickened ominously. Now, to her shock, the bones started dodging his paws!
Her attention shifted to Yazina, who had sagged against a column. Blood stained her left leg; quickly, she scrambled to the girl while hissing at Ardan, More. Harder, o Shadow.
This is ridiculous! he snarled. The Uxâtate had taken to waving his men back past a collapsed section of the vaulting hall to avoid falling masonry and gemstone cladding, when the soldiers suddenly scattered with shouts of horror.
Leandrial thundered, “Honestly, can’t I trust you little ones to finish a job properly?”
Leandrial! Aranya cried joyously, so tickled by the sight of elite soldiers fleeing from the spectacle created by Leandrial’s pearlescent eye filling the gap someone had smashed through the walls of Shan-Jarad’s hall, that she inadvertently snapped back into her Amethyst Dragoness form. That rather solved the clothing issue, too.
GRRR … Ardan snapped at a disembodied skeletal paw gripping his wing. “Doesn’t die easily, does he?”
Asturbar seemed to take particular pleasure in addressing the still-ashen ruler, “Yes, noble Uxâtate. If you hadn’t let us in, we would have requested our friend to tap gently upon your front door. Now, Leandrial – I take it you wish us to shovel this little pile of rubbish outside for you?”
“Forthwith, little ones!” she roared, shaking the fortress.
Azhukazi’s bones would not suffer to go easily. Ardan, Asturbar and Iridiana, returned to her Iridium Dragoness form, battled the badly-behaved bones as a random snarl of half-paws tried to strangle Iridiana, a hefty thigh bone smacked Ardan soundly across the nose, and three talons beat a tattoo against Asturbar’s armour. Aranya made hersel
f useful by corralling a collection of knuckle bones and vertebrae, fighting to keep them from linking together, while asking Sapphire to see to her brood. She detoured to touch half a dozen fallen soldiers in passing. Two had passed on but she was able to aid four before she brushed against Shan-Jarad’s shoulder; he had a heart condition she had never encountered before, and Aranya withheld direct healing for fear she might do more damage than good.
The Uxâtate glanced questioningly at Aranya as they departed the hall through a wide western doorway and into a walled courtyard area that Leandrial had appropriated for her own, crushing the ornamental plants and borders with her immense paw as she urged them to toss the bones aboard. Immediately the bones leaped together in a tangle that began to sort itself out into the likeness of a Dragon as if a macabre puzzle had sprung to life.
At once, the Land Dragoness clamped her forepaws together and slithered backward, taking a considerable section of the outer wall with her as she departed with alacrity. Aranya knew she would need to see to the soldiers razed by Asturbar, too.
Cleaning up after our allies, Dragonsoul? her Human chuckled.
Gaining favour, the Amethyst Dragoness murmured, rushing after a remarkably reinvigorated Shan-Jarad as he led a general exit toward the outer portico where Asturbar and Iridiana had landed.
Ardan seemed bent on turning the ruler’s heart condition into a fatal one, for as they broke out into the open, he plucked the man up in his forepaw and sprang for the skies. Ahead, Leandrial’s paw rotated and flattened as she prepared to paw-slap Azhukazi’s remains right through the base of the Island, it seemed to her – and here was Yazina, weeping openly as she ran along with a posse of soldiers. How she grieved for the girl, for the loss of her father …
Sweeping the teen up with a deft wingtip, Aranya flipped her into Rider position with the aid of a touch of storm wind, and followed her Shadow Dragon skyward. She had to see!
