Dragonstar (Dragonfriend Book 4)

by Marc Secchia

  Hastily, she flicked through Flow space to survey the Rift as best she could using Shill’s teachings. If only the Chrysolitic Dragoness could have travelled with them, but she had claimed that the Earthen-Fires were no place for her kind; now, uneasiness stirred in Hualiama’s gut. Instead, Shill had promised to escort Queen Imaytha back to Immadia.

  As far as she could detect, further eruptions were imminent all along the Rift, but it was the immediate phenomenon that seized her attention. Her scales crawled from muzzle to tail. Fearsome Dragon magic. Eerie, singing, corrosive …. awesomeness!

  Immediately, as if sensing her bourgeoning trepidation, the mighty column developed malignant eyes, darker slit lakes within the already freakish conflagration – the blackness of those flames unimaginable, as if firelight had been turned inside out, until its presence was just a greater darkness upon lesser dark-fires, the antithesis of anything she had ever known. The bottomless slits glowered at the doings of the draconic dots swirling about in a panic, leagues away at the Rift’s edge, as Hualiama desperately gathered the Dragonkind to herself. Safe haven. Navigational star, lodestone to their white-fires. Grandion growled deep in his chest, feeling as she did, the unimaginable force of that gaze searing across the expanse of smouldering mountains. Now, the phenomenon bent toward them. Growing a muzzle. Taking on form and definition by the second. Lumpen shoulders. Muscles and thews forged of pure, many-stranded ropes of dusky fires fringed with fluttering ribbons of crimson. The motion again seemed unhurried, the avalanching forward of a beast of monumental majesty, its proto-limbs or wings spreading out behind and to the sides in a posture similar to a Human diver braced for the plunge into a terrace lake.

  Just before the elongating fiery muzzle impacted the peaks of his domain, the creature thundered, I … AM … INFURION!

  This time, she was better prepared. Storm winds washed over the Star Dragoness and her nation, and she drew deep of the First Egg and Grandion’s stalwart presence to enfold them in white-fires love, not opposing so much as allowing the Ancient Dragon’s mind-blowing challenge to wash over them and through them. Still, hundreds of weaker or confused minds winked out, Dragon and Human alike. Slain.

  Now, the serried peaks and slopes undulated as if their legs had suddenly turned to water, for the Ancient Dragon swam toward them with an air of mesmerising, fatal ease, rending his domain over a path eight leagues wide. No way to escape. She shepherded a family of Dragon mountains! They could not leap to safety, nor could she simply whip aside the tens of thousands of lives they sheltered. Babies. Hatchlings. The entire Lost Islands nation seemed to inhale along with her, the feedback at thought speed arriving through the filters of her Council of persons and Dragons, as the mountains bent before his advent. The vast, primordial groaning and crunching of his progress escalated to indescribable levels as Infurion flexed his flaming sable shoulders to create an unending, rapidly travelling earthquake. Dark flame detonated behind him and off the bow wave of his shoulders, peeling rock asunder as the Dragon Haters had once peeled Dragons for their hide … now just five miles off! Three miles, and a wave of unutterable destruction surged toward the murky skies – without warning, fury flooded Hualiama’s craw. She would not cower! Once, Ra’aba had flayed her back open and chipped her spine, but she had stood against him. She had dangled from Shinzen’s paw, and burned him!

  Now, that same strength coalesced within her being. Mustering the might of the nation, the Star Dragoness’ magic quivered in anticipation. An immensity of power drained into her body. Her throat cramped. Magic fluttered through her arteries like molten fireflies. Magical constructs played about her gleaming talon tips and the scene bleached before her eyes, revealing the immensity of Infurion’s presence as a winged Dragon of darkness spearing through the white-fires of creation. Beneath her, the mountainous presence of Yiisuriel solidified, drawing together with her in oneness.

  YES! roared the Air Breather.

  Aye, she was tiny. Aye, she had been broken and spited, but she was also a miracle, treasured shell-daughter of a Star Dragoness and her Ancient Dragon mate, and loved by a Tourmaline Shapeshifter who had transformed his fundamental fires for her alone.

  Hualiama cried, BEZALDIOR, DESIST!!

  * * * *

  Flicker recovered consciousness feeling as if he had been beaten in draconic fisticuffs by the Tourmaline terror himself, he who had bloodied Numistar’s nose and torn two limbs off her body, memorably. He grinned weakly. Alright, Grandion was no one-dimensional bully about the warren. He was a freak in the best possible sense of the word.

  Whatever was making that infernal racket?

  He looked out of – oh, Hualiama’s paws – and saw an avalanche five miles tall bearing down upon him. Broken crags. Ores ripped untimely from their subterranean dwelling places, from millennia-old substrates. And behind that mess, shovelling it all along like a crashing comet, came a force of draconic magic more devastating than anything a dragonet had ever imagined. What was that thing? That power? Its fires stripped him bare, turning every Lesser Dragon and dragonet into a weakling – its mere presence was anathema to his inner fires.

  Then, the Blue-Star’s thunderous Command smote the Ancient Dragon right in the jaw, like a perfect right cross a la Grandion – only, it did not stop the beast. It maddened him.

  Admittedly, his jaw dangled for a millisecond as Flicker processed the conundrum of being about to be buried alive beneath a tidal wave taller than the mountains of Immadia, before being crisped to a cinder by the magic-annihilating Earthen-Fires of a legendary Dragon. A pinpoint of brilliant insight speared into his frantic mind. Oh, straw-head! In her passionate defence, she had forgotten one minor detail – the Word of Command worked imperfectly at best on Ancient Dragons.

  Fixing his most baleful glare upon the approaching annihilator, Flicker yelled, O mighty Infurion, you assault Fra’anior’s own shell-daughter!

  How did his outcry carry? The dragonet had no idea under the twin suns. He knew only that Infurion’s terrible darkness appeared to quiver, and then the Ancient Dragon pulled his charge – as much as a creature of his majesty and the tens of millions of tonnes of rock he had shovelled into motion could be said to be arrested.

  Which was to say, not a great deal.

  The ground rippled like intestines being messily slurped down Flicker’s throat. The Air Breathers, having formed their unique multi-harmonic shield, resisted the avalanche, but were toppled and tumbled and shovelled backward for miles within the protective bubble of their magic. Yiisuriel and her kin bellowed in pain and outrage, but that was nothing compared to the chaos of the Lost Islands nation within roost and cavern – they were shaken like a ralti sheep within a ravenous Dragon’s paw. Mountains rolled upon mountains, and many Land Dragons were crushed beneath their bulk. But the white flame of Lia flickered about them, succouring lives and lifting Dragons out of harm’s way, or encasing them in shielded caverns; Grandion’s roaring reverberated within the darkness of their burial place as he exerted his Kinetic power, somehow linking up with Yiisuriel to wrap huge bands of his magical Tourmaline arms about the smaller Air Breathers and pull them upright, manoeuvring them into better locations.

  Freak, defined. Yet, Flicker thrust the distraction of draconic admiration-jealousy from him, for the cries of the wounded beat upon his ears, and the grief corroding his hearts was like a Green Dragon’s thick, glutinous Acid. This was all so unnecessary. Clearly, Numistar’s paw had engineered this attack.

  What foul lies had she fed Infurion?

  Still, as the cacophony of the earthquake settled about him and the Air Breathers slowly shifted inside their leagues-wide protections, groaning at the weight of stone they shored up, Flicker knew one incontrovertible fact. With a single sentence, he had stopped an Ancient Dragon right in his Island-shattering tracks.

  He flexed his paws eagerly. One for the legends, eh, Flicker?

  A vast voice entered his mind. Thou infinitesimal spark of burning Dragon life, dot
h dare to load thy wings with such undeserved accolades? Rightly, I should snuff thee out!

  Rightly? the dragonet retorted heatedly. Tell me, o mighty Ancient Dragon, what is the worth of a single draconic life, even one as tiny as mine? Less than thine? Bereft or deprived of the right to exist, to live –

  Thou wouldst debate philosophy with the antithesis, the inevitable and overwhelming destruction of thine Sky-Fires?

  We have no quarrel with thee, mighty one.

  Yet mine shell-sister warns of thine attack – UPON MY PROGENY!

  Flicker licked his suddenly dry lips. Unholy spavined windrocs! He had been acting half-amused, half-irritated, but now outright malevolence eclipsed the dragonet’s mind-fires. Were it not for Hualiama’s presence, he would have expired then and there of Dragon fear. Sensing the Star Dragoness’ attention zeroing in on him, he stated boldly:

  Numistar lies. We bring no such design against thy realm – this I swear upon my own eternal fire-soul, and upon my friendship with Amaryllion Fireborn, also thine shell-brother.

  PROVE THIS SPURIOUS CLAIM!

  Examine my mind, great –

  THOU COULDST NOT SURVIVE SUCH AN EXAMINATION!

  Infurion’s fury swelled prodigiously, but the nuances of his Dragonish betrayed subtle, closely-masked doubt. Perhaps no other would have detected it, save that Flicker recognised certain parallels with the mode and manner of Amaryllion’s mind speech. He had no need to make additional claims about Numistar Winterborn, unless Infurion asked first. The directness of draconic negotiation demanded a different approach.

  Indeed not, the dragonet agreed, maintaining his most uncompromising stance despite the terror gnawing at the roots of his courage. Test us, noble Infurion. Test our fires.

  BY WHOSE OATH?

  Mine, Hualiama’s mental voice broke in. I shall speak for the many, and may my fires be forfeit if any lie should cross my lips.

  Vast laughter washed over them, rocking the Air Breathers and darkening every Dragon fire almost into nonexistence. Mine very breath could blow thee all into the dust from which thou wert formed – all, save the secret daughter of one known to mine cognizance. Welcome to the Rift fires, Star Dragoness. This is the realm of atramental darkness where – he grinned forebodingly, prolonging the moment, before crashing out with palpable relish – STARS MUST PERISH!!

  * * * *

  As Infurion’s battle challenge ripped through his being, beating his inner Dragon fires with notes of shrieking disharmony, Grandion rebelled. Foolish, noble dragonet! Warm brotherly love stirred in his breast as he considered their companion who goaded him, impressed him and fired his jealousy; he gathered that mite against his side, strengthening him with a vision of pure white-fires.

  Be strong, noble Flicker.

  They touched wingtips solemnly, and endured.

  The raging Rift magic might be muted by the miles of rock piled above their heads, but Grandion perceived its power as if it were a Cloudlands-bound waterfall smashing upon the white, glowing boulders of draconic life gathered about him in the gloom, eroding and unravelling the sacred runic blazes of the constituents of his fire-life; Infurion’s rage and spite ripped through what he knew Hualiama saw as concentrated, helical filigrees of shimmering magic. His draconic quintessence felt acid-bitten. Degraded. Unable to withstand even Infurion’s presence, let alone the insuperable enormity of his wrath.

  Yet again in the oath bond and in an echo of what he shared with Flicker, the Tourmaline discovered an unforeseen resilience. Why?

  Instinct drove the Tourmaline deep – far into that enigmatic, unplumbed realm they shared through the sacred joining of their fires. Once, he had been the raider; her tormentor, ripping from her what he required – what he had thought he required. Grandion grinned grimly. Never again would he treat any creature, least of all the Blue-Star, so evilly. Never, upon his oath!

  Her mental voice broke in. I know, bright flame of my heart.

  Foreboding laced his Dragon hearts with uncharacteristic fear. Hualiama, I sense –

  This?

  More … this. He showed her the hint, like an aroma mixed in amidst a billion scents.

  It is a melody of magic I’ve known before … Hualiama’s breathing filled his mind, while her hearts’-beat modulated from hatchling swiftness to match his slower, steadier triple drumbeat. Marvellous, Grandion. Again … help us … this will allow us to withstand Infurion’s power.

  She was his guide. Grandion sieved frantically through the threads of music, seeking with every spark of his draconic intuition. Thousands of possibilities, he examined and discarded. Tens of thousands. The answer, so elusive he began to fear it did not exist, but the Tourmaline was a predator on the hunt, now. Relentless. Primed, and primal. He would not fail his beloved.

  Here! A silken thread …

  ALASTIOR! Grandion’s triumph resounded like a bell, even to his ears.

  He had no need to form a thought, for even as the mountains above shook – Infurion quarried toward the entombed Air Breathers and the nation they sheltered with enviable ease – the song of starlight magic rising from Hualiama transformed not from one key to another, but from one plane of draconic existence to another, almost as she had described her experience of the Flow.

  Suddenly, the insane screaming of magic eased. Dragons exclaimed in confusion and wonder as they found themselves able to think, to breathe, to function again.

  Just then, black fire speared through the Air Breather shield as Infurion shovelled mountains of debris aside, and a spectral grin formed in the flaming monstrosity of his face. Drawing a breath that was like the inhalation of a furnace the size of any respectable Island, he roared, SURRENDER, O STAR DRAGONESS!

  Her chin jutted into a phenomenal gale of magic and mayhem. Blackness turned Grandion’s mind inside out as his fires guttered, but a desperate focus on the dazzling presence of his oath companion kept his mind intact – not so much the Dragonkind cowering below. The Air Breathers clumped together to resist, but many minds behind their bulwarks flickered into unconsciousness.

  Serenely, Lia replied, Hold your fires, noble shell-uncle.

  Chapter 31: Infernal Fires

  It was the calm expressed in her response that staggered the Ancient Dragon, Hualiama intuited, observing the alien yet somehow palpably draconic emotions coursing through the eyes that overshadowed her nation. His temperament could not have been more different to Amaryllion Fireborn’s understated air of dignity, and she sensed deeper still, that the inmost character of his draconic being – the contradictory nature of his fire-soul – gave rise to whole new realms of emotions, processes and thoughts of which she had not the first inkling. Furthermore, even the fact of his existence was anathema to the Sky-Fires of her companions. His fires overwhelmed. Corrupted. Twisted and annihilated the fundamental fires of their existence.

  Only the immense resilience of the Lost Islands’ mental network kept their allied Lesser Dragons from being snuffed out entirely.

  Perils within perils.

  Beside her, Grandion deliberately reached out to touch wings. His eyes gleamed with markers of a noble, approving fury that transcended words – strengthening her resolve.

  At once, Hualiama addressed the Ancient Dragon, The shell-daughter of Fra’anior the Onyx will consider your reasonable demands, o mighty Infurion. As the dragonet noted, we’ve no quarrel with you.

  Her provocation was weighted according to every ounce of Dragon lore she had learned, most especially from Fra’anior’s own teaching. By ties of blood and shell, Infurion was required to deal with her as family, with all that implied for both of them. She would learn what his relationship with Fra’anior might be, whether adverse, indifferent or friendly.

  Sweeping aside a pawful of rock – given as his palms each measured a number of square miles, he was capable of juggling small mountains for fun – Infurion glared down at her, there in a canyon of rubble created by Yiisuriel’s shield, like a thunderstorm which had taken form a
nd flame and threatened to crush them all. SUBMIT!

  I haven’t heard your terms.

  As Infurion explained the flaws in her reasoning to the tune of earthquakes, general geological rearrangements of their surroundings for many leagues about and fires raging from horizon to horizon, noting with all the lashing sarcasm of an ancient behemoth how very, very inaccessible Fra’anior was at this point in time and how he could squash her with the slightest sneeze of his left nostril, she firmed her sense of purpose. Bluster! This was brawny intimidation designed to assess her purity of purpose. Peripherally, she recognised Grandion’s concern and Flicker’s anticipation of something quite … Hualiama special?

  Perfect. She should do just that.

  * * * *

  Raising a petite forepaw, Hualiama interjected delicately, Noble shell-uncle, you are so very kind to chastise us. We bow before your indubitable magnificence.

  I – WHAT? Incendior spluttered, sounding as incensed as his name suggested. Momentarily, his thrashing of mountain peaks ceased. The depthless eye slits pinched inward, while smoke began to boil off his lumpen shoulders as the import of her words sank in.

  Grandion groaned. Privately, he hissed at Blue-Star, What on the Islands are you doing?

  Clearly eavesdropping even on their private telepathic communication, the Ancient Dragon growled, Precisely. Why, when threatened with annihilation, dost thou …

  His glowering eclipsed the very skies overhead.

  Hualiama pirouetted neatly off Grandion’s port wingtip, and with a coquettish flutter of her wings, cooed, Mighty shell-uncle, haven’t you sensed the dangers rife in the Balance of the Harmonies? See my magic. Let the clarity of my insight rise to your perception.

  Lia projected the traces she and Grandion had detected.

  What, thou challengest … Infurion’s incredulity caused the swathe his body cut through entire mountain ranges to convulse. Thou – USURPER!! Architect thou art of these strange tangs beneath the Island-World’s shell and all these changes in the aether – nay, only the originator of this song of magic that sings so poignantly of mine lost shell-brother … no … NO! IT CANNOT BE!