Dragonstar (Dragonfriend Book 4)

by Marc Secchia

  Pity the matched pair of Chrysolitic Dragons, a renegade Magma Dragon and a tiny Star Dragoness caught in the crossfire!

  For long minutes, all Hualiama could do was deflect and dodge. The tumult battered their small group without respite. Again and again, she reformed the damaged shells of her shields, slapping them up in a desperate flurry. Pressure. Protection. Refraction. Throwing off slurries of superheated flying lava and debris pulverised by the incredible light cannons. Again! Another shield, and another …

  Back to the Flow! one of the Shills shouted.

  We can’t lose the Egg, Lia argued back. You go. I’m stronger here.

  Stronger, where the Egg’s magic flowed. Was this the ruzal’s next gambit? She could make adjustments out of Flow space and escape there if needed, but Numistar waited above and the Land Dragons were doing a fine job of splattering their handy eruption halfway around the Island-World. Hualiama groaned between her fangs. Being stuck between the proverbial Island cliff and a large boulder had nothing on this mess. She’d do no worse if she were being gargled somewhere deep inside Numistar’s throat.

  Was a Star Dragoness not supposed to just shine beautifully and all this trouble would just evaporate in her glorious radiance?

  I’m not so sure these Dragons are the appreciative sort, a small voice said inside of her.

  Then, we’ll educate these thunder-heads. The Dragoness ducked a light beam that seared through the lava for a distance of over a league, but when it played over the Egg, nothing happened. This, I know. Help me dance, snippy soul fragment.

  Very well, since we’re into the disrespectful name calling – start dancing, o twirly-tailed master of snark.

  I value the supportive attitude, Humansoul.

  I’ll trim off a few inches of sassiness any time you need it.

  I … I won’t return that favour. When her soul chuckled warmly inside of her, the Dragoness knew. This was right. Sorry about the short joke. You aren’t growing anymore, and me – I’ve got a lot of growing up to do.

  Together, Dragonlove. Only together, can we dance across the tightrope of fate.

  * * * *

  She danced in beauty, a star alone. She had not fallen from the soot-darkened skies, but in her lonesome splendour, the starlight she generated stood in the starkest possible juxtaposition to the flaming orange inferno below that dazzling white speck, and the pearlescent curve of the Egg, just a paw-sized dot viewed from this distance. Above and around her gathered the Ice-Raptors of Numistar’s personage and command. An immense column of black smoke boiled skyward from the eruption she had unleashed, spreading pumice and ash to the northeast upon the winds. Below, myriad Magma Dragons carved through the lava, their bodies ablaze as they carved toward the Egg like bloody talon strokes scored through the Island-World’s flesh.

  The Star Dragoness pirouetted aloft, the fingers of her light caressing the sky.

  Flicker touched Grandion’s head. I can’t … see.

  Maudlin mite, he approved softly, watching the darkness and the powers gathering against his beloved. Yet, they will never countenance her blazing fidelity. Such as these would rather crush the light.

  The wind keened across Flicker’s scales as he assumed a dominant stance upon the Tourmaline Dragon’s head. The powerful young Dragon rushed ahead of the slower forces, bringing a full Dragonwing of aid to Hualiama on the wings of his whistling Storm. He might be a one-foot white speck in comparison to those immense powers, but he remembered what it meant to dance inside that girl-Dragoness’ soul.

  He had perished for her.

  Flicker said, Then, we must bring her to roost with us.

  * * * *

  She was too enfeebled. Dodging, dancing, keeping up the light and feeding off the Egg’s power while trying to protect her friends and keep the First Egg from tumbling away into the paws of the roving Land Dragons – she could not do it all. Hualiama knew she had delved too deep for too long. Even to sup of a font of magic like the Egg took its toll, for the magic must be shaped and informed, and flow through her being. That demanded resilience founded in her magical capacity. She could draw from Grandion, aye. She could draw from him, and doom her beloved to Numistar’s paw.

  No. Strength was not needed. Cunning was.

  GRRRAAABOOM!!

  The Magma Dragons, united, blasted her with rivers of lava. Hualiama’s spinning form bounced off the First Egg. Unnnhh, she gasped, yet she shielded and danced on. Land Dragon light cannons bossed her about the sky, their blades of light intersecting her shields more and more often. Cutting. Blasting. Flattening the cone of lava which had begun to rise from the wasteland. Knocking away the underpinnings of her First Egg like a group of men destroying a building with heavy hammers. Even in her dazed and beaten state, she recognised the eerie energies within them, the wrongful notes struck by their Harmonic attacks and the single-minded purpose with which they worked together. Were these Theadurial-infested Land Dragons?

  BRAA-BOOM! She rocked to her port flank, crying out in pain. BLA-DA-BLAM! Light thundered against her shield, together with an acoustic blast that punched her half a mile across the Egg’s bow. Grateful for a moment’s shadow, she gathered her strength.

  Think! Think, Hualiama!

  Her dance wreathed her flying, spinning body in rainbow colours. Gritting the fangs, struggling mightily, Lia faced their Harmonic blasts with a rising song of her own. Not negation. Redirection. Refraction. Splitting their beams with a knife of pure desire, she generated great, arcing sprays of rainbows many leagues wide, or blasted rainbow spheres away from her body. The Land Dragons raged against the citadel of starlight, but could not reach her. Attack after attack continued to pummel the fortress of her defiance. Tremendous shockwaves rattled her shields, the magical backlash rampaging through her as the Dragons treated her like their personal stomping ground. Lia tasted blood in her mouth. She held on. She could barely keep her wings outspread, yet she resisted. All gleamed at her presence, as she evaporated the toxic clouds for miles about, creating a place of living glory within the devastation – yet, it was not enough. She needed time.

  She had no time left.

  Gloomy billows of ash and rock particles sifted down from above, creating an impression of driving rain, but rain it was not. Molten rock bled from the bowels of her world as though she had struck a grievous wound into its abdomen, and perhaps she had. Despite all she endeavoured, the fountains of lava were lowering and the Egg, sinking. Soon, it would fall into the talons of the waiting Magma Dragons. Beyond them waited the great circle of Land Dragons, the hulking Shell-kind and myriad subspecies of Runners staging raids across the blasted ruin of cooling lava, and other kinds ranged beyond them still – Living Springs and the mountains of Air Breathers and the eel-like Twisted subspecies from the deeper cracks and caverns beneath the Cloudlands. So many. Hundreds of types she could not even begin to recognise; and there, she observed a fresh wedge of Land Dragons driving in from the East, spearheaded by the mighty stellate form of Siiyumiel himself. Even he did not spare her the almighty blast of his light cannon.

  Did he not know who she was? Some ally!

  Should she not command the ruzal and turn many to her dominion, as her mother undoubtedly would?

  Now, the white clouds of Ice-Raptors gathered amongst the sooty grey billows of ash clouds furled their feathery wings and dived, bringing to mind a striking flock of white birds peeling away from a thunderstorm breaking over Fra’anior Cluster. All three of her Dragon hearts clenched in her chest and abdomen. Numistar swooped for her prize!

  Hualiama braced herself. Fight harder. Draw deeper …

  Dragonlove, please …

  No, Humansoul! We cannot give up!

  Flicker says –

  Flicker? Here? For a second the Star Dragoness became disconcerted, the rhythm of her dance broken as the image of Flicker dancing with her upon Amaryllion Fireborn’s tongue struck deep. His laughter. His soul, freed at last to fly to the Eternal Fires.


  He had not flickered and died. He had come for her, from within her, and lived again.

  Even as a dragonet had been reborn, so Numistar sought rebirth … and suddenly, both of her souls recognised what must come to pass. The Winterborn needed the Egg. Hualiama needed the Egg. Only the Ancient Dragoness had the power to bear the Egg on the next stage of its journey.

  She stopped fighting.

  The girl nodded inside of her, forbidding of mien, her will as indomitable as a granite mountain. One intense thought stood out, as lucid as a honed blade. Now, we shall change the Balance.

  Peace flowered in the Dragoness’ soul, along with an appalling knowledge of calamitous enervation. She was done – but she could trust this girl. Rely on her. Love her. Humansoul had walked hellish, unimaginable paths in birth and life, and had even sought death, but she won through it all and had become stronger than her Dragonsoul had ever imagined.

  Thus, the Star Dragoness waited beside the Egg, drawing the Shills closer to her side and looking for Crackle, but a girl’s hands lay lightly upon the reins within. Dragonsoul rested. The Magma Dragon had vanished, rustling up a little more lava, she hoped.

  Lia said, Thanks, Crackle. We could not have raised the Egg without your mighty paw.

  Fiery laughter played against her mind. Anon, o joy of Fra’anior.

  The Ice-Raptors sheared down toward her on the winds, their formation assuming the form of a mighty Dragoness’ head, complete with skull spikes and eye sockets, and a quasi-mouth cracked open.

  Ten thousand throats cried, HOLD! A BARGAIN, STAR DRAGONESS!

  Grandion’s techniques of draconic negotiation slipped into her mind. Don’t give in easily. Never, Numistar. We shall battle to the death!

  Closer, closer, she felt the oath link growing in her mind. She must not speak to the Tourmaline, not even privately, or the Winterborn might detect their telepathic communication. She had no idea of the abilities of Ancient Dragons, but she must not underestimate Numistar. She had returned from exile. This Dragoness was wily enough to outsmart the Great Onyx himself.

  You seek death too easily, little one, sneered the wedge of Ice-Raptors. Why should we fight, when greater dangers lie ahead? Deal with me first.

  Hualiama gritted her fangs as much as she closed her mind. That voice! It threatened to overcome her, the richness of the Dragonish as intoxicating as the fabled Dragonwine to her senses, charming, enticing – and she could not – she must become Human. Aye. She changed in a millisecond, buoying herself upon a tiny airstream. Why had she not thought to whisk the First Egg away on a bed of air? Too late – and likely impossible. The outflow of magic was too unsettling, too stormy. What creature of flesh could harness that flow?

  The hypnotic voice continued, Deal with me. Ally with me until we destroy your shell-mother, the Empress of Haters. Together, we shall defeat her.

  You seek embodiment, but you failed before.

  YOU ARE CUNNING! Numistar’s fury thundered against the Egg. Very well. The embodied creature cannot sustain the conjuration – but a Star Dragoness can bring it about. You embodied a living soul in that dragonet. You shall do the same for me, and in return I shall destroy your mother, taking upon my brow the very act you, in your risible weakness, cannot contemplate.

  Hualiama froze. Contemplation was not the issue. Could she carry out the wicked, crucial deed? That was the crevice of doubt’s ingress into her heart and mind. So much lost. Ra’aba, Ianthine, Sapphurion, Qualiana, even Istariela … and now Numistar offered to destroy Azziala! Her heart leaped into her throat and throbbed there so painfully, she could not breathe. Grieving dark-fires, it was a good offer – an unbelievable offer. Too good. Time for a shrewd bargain, girl. Draw on Grandion’s draconic wisdom, earned at Sapphurion’s paw, his shock reverberating through the link … please understand! She was no traitor. She was a survivor.

  The survival of all Dragonkind and Humankind was at stake.

  What of the Egg, Numistar?

  The diving Ice-Raptors could not disguise the glee that caused their wings to stutter as one. It shall be yours. Embodiment and vengeance shalt satiate my Dragoness hearts. I shall possess power greater than any Egg, and the Empress who defied me shall die.

  Conditions, Hualiama snapped at once.

  Within, her Dragoness hissed, Every piece. Every last soul fragment of the Winterborn … because if she’s all in one place, she loses a key tactical advantage.

  She seized that key insight and buried beneath layers of subterfuge. Heartsong? You’re awesome.

  Huh. Took you long enough to ascertain the facts.

  The girl kept her utmost draconic inscrutability fixed upon her features as she faced the incoming white storm. Attack? Or feint? She must not show the slightest hint of weakness. Arrogance was best, as much as she could haul out of her rather sparse cupboard of the stuff – she laughed. Oh, Flicker. Aye, Grandion. Her boys could teach her a trick or five about arrogance!

  Drawing herself up with the pomp of a gleaming Tourmaline Dragon and the fearlessness of a dragonet, Hualiama growled, Numistar Winterborn, you shall act to preserve the integrity of Fra’anior Cluster and the lives of all its peoples and Dragons, including all my allies. She hardly recognised her own voice. Audacious. Formidable. A frisson of Fra’anior-esque, thunderous fulminations underlying the syllables … You will honour our truce until Azziala is dealt with, and then you shall withdraw without quibble or qualm – you, and all of your allied forces and minions. I will keep the First Egg. You will not battle me for it –

  Do not try to deceive an Ancient Dragoness, the Numistar-cluster shot back. We will both keep the truce until, as you say, the threat of Azziala is dealt with. You will battle your shell-mother at my side, and at my behest. In victory, our bargain ends.

  Lia shot back, You shall not attack or seek the First Egg for a period of six months after our victory.

  Six? At the very most, I shall consider a truce of three.

  Three months. Agreed. Every hair stood erect on Hualiama’s neck. She was doing this! Committed. The immutable bonds of draconic oath-making bound her now.

  Numistar boomed, You will act to protect me against the Hater’s Command-hold.

  Aye, because the Winterborn could not.

  The Raptors were seconds away now. Huge. She saw their every detail, the pinkish eyes and soft, furry wings riding the volcanic winds like the supplest of sails – how many? Mercy! Deliberately, she pasted on a sneer borrowed from Razzior’s top drawer. Since you’re so weak, Dragoness, I shall agree to protect you this time. But you must ensure every fragment of your soul enters your embodied self, or you shall always be weakened and vulnerable, and I cannot defend stray bits –

  AGREED! roared the massed Ice-Raptors. NOW, GIVE ME THE EGG!

  Give? Do not try to deceive the shell-daughter of Fra’anior himself, Numistar. This is nothing more than a loan.

  A hateful, insane, possibly brilliant loan.

  Now, all she had to do was to grant one of Fra’anior’s greatest enemies, life reincarnate.

  * * * *

  If the Dragonkind had thought to be robbed by Hualiama’s act of brazen treachery – or genius, Grandion privately admitted to himself – they were rather more satisfied to be launched into the middle of a fine battle to rid Numistar’s coagulating enormity of a sea of clinging Land Dragon enemies. She was vast; a slithering, seething leviathan of white scales tinged with the cerulean blue of a perfect Immadian sky, and her breath a mist of abyssal cold. Her sheer bulk disoriented the mind. As the Egg’s magic streamed over Numistar in unending torrents, it became clear to him that this Dragoness could stand on the floor of the Cloudlands and overshadow the Islands five leagues above, and the aura of her magic was, similarly, staggering. Supersize Dragon. Gargantuan. She dwarfed any superlative that he had ever imagined about a Dragon.

  If Fra’anior was built on a scale of this magnitude, how had he fathered a palm-sized Star Dragoness?

  That Istariela must be a m
iracle worker. He and Hualiama had size issues that would take years to work out; imagine a Star Dragoness romancing his seven-headed draconic Lordship, the Great Onyx! Grandion grinned toothily over his shoulder, peering at the transformed, unclothed and woefully battered girl balanced between his spine spikes. It virtually rearranged a Dragon’s head backward on his neck to consider that such a glance, nowadays, was not forbidden by anything more than the defiant slant of her chin, and the glimmer in her eyes that promised trouble of a most fire-stoking sort if he did not desist from giving her the roving eye-orb, forthwith!

  Grandion grinned lazily. I do believe my fires evince an immoral bent.

  Quicker than a flash of his Lightning power, a reply zinged back, This amidst a battle, you antiquated reprobate?

  Hualiama giggled and grew decidedly rosier of cheek as the Tourmaline mentally held up one particular nuance indicator in his mind. He said nothing, just waving her own warming-desire contextual note about for closer inspection.

  I can’t wait to meet Human-Grandion, she incited him impudently, before switching tack. So, what’s next? Defend Numistar from the easterly quarter – let me join with you, o Grandion, and –

  You’ve done quite enough for one day, he interrupted.

  Have I?

  Apprehending her stiff reaction to his perceived censure, Grandion bit his tongue. Even more quickly, however, he clarified, Changing the fates is no easy task, nor is travelling beneath the Island-World, where no Dragon in legend or lore has ever cut wing. You raised the Egg and our muzzles upon a new course. Let your hearts not be troubled, Hualiama. These are notes of high courage. Rest. Gather your strength for the next dance.