Dragonlove

by Marc Secchia

  “You rode on his back!” Sapphurion’s bellow shook the cavern.

  “Did it kill him? No!” she howled right back, feeling the veins in her neck and forehead bulging strangely. So much fire, so much anger, she could more easily have corked an erupting volcano than keep silent now. “Infect him? No! Diminish one drop of a leagues-wide terrace lake of Dragonish pride and obduracy which he has clearly inherited from his shell-father … no! And do you know what? He departed a better Dragon for the experience, Sapphurion; worthy in wisdom and deed, a nobler beast altogether. I’m honoured–aye, honoured and grateful, to have played some small part in his life! So when Grandion returned to his family, intent on making something good of his life, what in a Cloudlands hell did you do?”

  “I obeyed our law!”

  At last, Sapphurion’s cry betrayed real pain. She had pushed him too far. Qualiana made a half-step to intervene, but since Lia and the Dragon Elder had been exchanging verbal fireballs from a distance of just a few feet, his paw was faster by far. Not for the first time in her life, the Human girl found herself the captive of an enraged Dragon.

  Squeezed in a grip of iron, Lia gasped, “I want to go after him, Sapphurion. Grant me that pittance, I beg you. Tell me where to find him.”

  Deliberately, the Blue Dragon’s fangs ground down on what Hualiama recognised as the terrible pressure of a vast fireball readied in his fire-stomach. Sapphurion snarled, “We cannot trust a Dragon-slayer.”

  Lia nodded slowly, feeling sick. “For what it’s worth, I regret killing Jinthalior.”

  Andarraz cried, “Regret? A craven apology! Dispose of the Enchantress now, Sapphurion!”

  Flying ralti sheep, what a stupid mistake! Hualiama swallowed hard as Sapphurion’s muzzle pressed closer, flame clearly visible down the tunnel of each nostril. “Aye, I regret taking a Dragon’s life,” she said, forcing scorn and resolve into her voice. “As for that Green, mine was the hand of the Great Dragon’s justice that terminated his cowardly, miserable existence. He died exactly as he deserved–in dishonour.”

  Dragon-thunder reverberated in the cavern. The Elders made a concerted rush for her. Sapphurion calmly sprang aloft, leaving his kindred to slam together beneath him in a ferocious melee of talon, fang and fire. Then he descended, voicing a full-throated challenge backed by a touch of Storm power. Thunder rolled in the distance. The Dragon Elders scattered, giving his wings and tail a respectful berth.

  Setting Lia down between the Dragons once more, he growled, “For the third time, I declare to you, Human girl, that we Dragons will never trust one infected by Ianthine’s madness. Tell me who sent you hence, or give me some other sign, and I will tell you what you wish to know of Grandion. This is the word of a Dragon.”

  What could sway him? Every way lay impossibility. Appeal to the Dragons who had raised her, and thereby destroy Sapphurion’s credibility as leader of these Dragons? Speak to them in Dragonish? That would only earn her a faster flight into the Cloudlands. Should she reveal her presence at Amaryllion’s final fire-song, against the Ancient Dragon’s wishes? No. She had shown the Dragon Elders the dragonet’s fire-gift, but that seemed insufficient.

  She realised she had one more secret. A name.

  Quietly, Lia said to the Blue Dragon, “To you alone will I reveal the name of the one who sent me, Sapphurion. Please, lend me your ear-canals.”

  His superior Dragon-grin reasserted itself at once. Hualiama recognised the pride, the assumption that he had triumphed in their battle of wits and upheld his dominance at the top of the Dragon hierarchy. Sapphurion smirked, “There are no secrets between Dragons.”

  “Please …”

  How could he not understand the appeal in her voice? Simply, because he chose not to. The Blue Dragon growled, “To all of us, or none, Hualiama Dragonfriend. Prove the worth of your oath.”

  May she own the courage of a dragonet.

  Moving as though gripped by a dream–or a nightmare–Lia slipped out of Sapphurion’s uncurled talons, and took several steps backward. On reflection, several steps more seemed appropriate. Andarraz’s expression suggested he thought she was about to turn tail and bolt. Lia had no such intention. No more begging for her. No more bargaining with a Dragon for his son’s future, whatever ruin thereof might remain to be succoured.

  Pain marshalled its forces in her stomach. Hualiama imagined at first she had a case of the worst heartburn imaginable, but it escalated rapidly beyond that, as though the mere thought that she might speak a Dragon’s secret name had unleashed a terrible, incendiary power. So afraid! Lia knew a fear that froze the very living pith in her, for there was no telling how the Dragons might respond to her forthcoming declaration. She stumbled backward, trapped in a maelstrom of terror and fire.

  The Dragon Elders stalked her sinuously, Zulior and Andarraz flanking Sapphurion, Haaja and two mountainous Reds flanking them. Even Qualiana looked murderous, her tail flicking from side to side.

  Lia’s throat and chest swelled as though wishing to morph into the capacity of a far larger beast. A rushing of mighty flames filled her ears. She must swallow it down! Her eyes bulged. She had to plug her mouth before the pain struck … yet air sucked down into her lungs as though drawn by the vortex of magic indwelling her now.

  The Dragons froze.

  BEZALDIOR!

  * * * *

  Lia felt as though her lungs had emptied inside out. A thunderclap of sound ripped out of her throat, evocative of Amaryllion’s triumphal bellow in the Dragon graveyard. It smashed into the massed Dragon Elders, lifting them off the ground, flipping them over with the ease of a cook flipping slices of sweet-tuber in a frying pan. Sapphurion wheezed as he thumped down flat on his back, all four paws scrabbling at the air. The other Dragons fared no better. Gasps and groans filled the momentary stillness her shout had demanded. Even the sounds of the Dragon community outside of the cavern hushed in response.

  Perhaps one should never speak a word of such power, aloud.

  Suddenly, hot liquid flooded Hualiama’s mouth. She wiped it automatically, drew back a hand smeared in crimson.

  Her knees buckled.

  With a low cry, Qualiana scrambled to her paws, fixated on Hualiama. Little one … her mate Sapphurion moved fast, but not as fast as the distressed Dragoness. Magic enfolded her, a touch more tender than hand or paw ever knew. We’ve hurt you, little mouse.

  Stabilise her, Qualiana, Sapphurion ordered. We need to finish this now, and take the girl for treatment.

  What does this mean, Sapphurion? Andarraz sounded dazed and confused.

  The Blue Dragon said, It means she knew the Ancient Dragon. He sent her to us. And as we saw, a mystery: the fire we remarked upon during her dance–that was a touch of Dragon fire.

  Haaja spat, Only the most blasphemous legends suggest that the Ancient Dragons left a touch of their fire inside of every Human!

  “Hualiama of Fra’anior,” Sapphurion said, returning to Island Standard, “Grandion served with honour in the campaign to quell the Green Dragon rebellion on Merx and Lyrx. Upon his return to Gi’ishior, he admitted his trespass with a Human whom he called his Dragon Rider. In this very Hall, he bargained with the Elders for his life.”

  Lia nodded, clutching her throat. She dared not speak.

  “We assigned him an honour-quest. Should he complete the task, the knowledge of his transgression shall be struck from Dragonish memory. Grandion flew to the Eastern Isles to track down the original Scroll of Binding–a scroll of Dragon lore from which, we believe, Ianthine mastered ruzal, and the Dragon-Haters of the Lost Islands learned a mysterious power over Dragons. We know little of these Dragon-Haters, for in living memory, no Dragon has been able to penetrate their defences.”

  So Sapphurion had assigned his shell-son an impossible quest? Aghast, a dull rattle sounded from her chest.

  Qualiana hushed her at once. “Peace, little one.”

  Heavily, Sapphurion added, “Therefore I, Sapphurion the Dragon Elder, mu
st ask you this, Hualiama Dragonfriend. Will you atone for the Tourmaline Dragon’s obligation, assuming the onus of this quest for the lost Scroll of Binding? Will you scour the Island-World for him, not returning to hearth or home until you succeed or perish in this endeavour? Will you take his oath upon yourself?”

  Hualiama nodded at once.

  “We must hear you.” To his mate, Sapphurion said, Qualiana, dull her pain.

  Speaking may further damage her throat, she replied. There, it is done.

  Lia rasped, “I so swear.”

  * * * *

  Scooping Hualiama up, Qualiana left the meeting immediately and flew a little ways up the cliff directly above the tunnel-entrance Lia had navigated on her way in to the Halls of the Dragons. She felt enervated. Adrenaline, shock and magic, all had taken their toll. She saw Sapphurion following just as they alighted at a tunnel entrance.

  It felt strangely comforting to be cradled in a Dragon’s paw after six years.

  The tunnel was smooth and polished to a high sheen, giving Hualiama glimpses of a wan-looking Human dangling in the Red Dragoness’ grasp. Qualiana barely needed to furl her wings to pass through, and after just a few hundred feet, she turned into a narrower doorway. A touch of her foremost talon-pad to a large button caused the tall, intricately patterned metal doors to slide apart, revealing a short, Dragon-sized hallway leading into warmly lamp-lit inner chambers.

  “Our roost,” said Qualiana, seemingly oblivious to the shock of recognition which stupefied the girl she held. Memories! Echoes of joy! “The main living area looks onto the caldera through that one-way crysglass. Those are Dragon couches. Sapphurion’s perch lies to your left–that’s fire-fused agate crystal, which he shaped to fit his body while it was still malleable. My mate is a peerless gemstone worker.”

  “Beautiful,” Lia managed to gasp.

  “Bathe your face in this laver. The water is cool and refreshing. Then, lie down.”

  Lia did as she was bid, charily glancing at the Dragoness, who hovered like a broody mother fussing over her hatchling. She reached out to touch Lia’s shoulder with one thick, red digit, causing healing magic to pour over and into her like a river of thick, golden honey. Just then, a clicking of claws without heralded Sapphurion’s arrival. With two huge Dragons in the room, their quarters suddenly felt decidedly cosy. And warm. Dragons generated so much heat!

  With a word, Sapphurion closed the outer doors. Hualiama sensed the unmistakable yet feather-light touch of his magic. Gears whirred and locks clicked shut.

  She was confined with a pair of Dragons.

  “Sealed,” said Sapphurion, deepening her anxiety. And he approached with an altogether gentler, apricot tinge in his eye.

  Hualiama shivered where she lay on a cushion ten feet wide and thirty long–and that was only half of a couch, it seemed. The huge Blue slipped lithely onto his beautiful perch, where the variegated blues of agate crystals had been formed into swirling loops and unfolding petals, mimicking with flawless accuracy, she realised with an inward sigh of appreciation, the lilies she had noticed adorning the terrace lake on the way in. The Dragon Elder arranged himself on this perch with a rustling of wings and a sigh that betrayed weariness, and … a nervousness of his own?

  The silence grew strained.

  Coughing discreetly, Qualiana swamped a couch to Lia’s left, her paw crooked behind the Human girl as though the Dragoness meant to embrace her, but shied away from completing the gesture. Two Dragon muzzles turned to Lia, tilted to keep the burning nostrils pointed a little away from her, while their mesmeric eyes stripped away her defences with shocking ease.

  Lia had occasionally imagined meeting a potential boyfriend or suitor’s parents. Obviously, not in this context! A hysterical wailing burbled around the fringes of her consciousness. Surely, Sapphurion and Qualiana must guess how she felt about their shell-son. What else would drive her to such extremes? They knew she had shamed him, that she must be at least partially responsible for his fateful decision to allow a Human to set foot upon a Dragon’s back. They must hate her. Or, perhaps it was merely a violent draconic antipathy?

  ‘Islands’ greetings,’ she imagined the conversation proceeding. ‘Please don’t eat me if I say this … I need you to know I’m inappropriately fond of your son, who just happens to be of a completely different species we Humans are openly and covertly at war with …’

  She must speak.

  Hualiama whispered, “Mighty Sapphurion, I wonder if you remember a particular conversation that took place in this room?” Switching to Dragonish, she quoted from memory, Here, little mouse. You cannot stay in our clutch forever. We must give you to the Human King.

  The Blue Dragon became still, so utterly motionless that Lia feared she had just signed her death-warrant with the flourish of a verbal quill. Qualiana emitted a soft, ululating cry that seemed to oscillate between desolation and hope. She rubbed her muzzle in a gesture Lia had seen Flicker use when moved by profound emotion. Should she have forewarned the Dragons? Too late now.

  You speak Dragonish? Qualiana gasped. Perfect Dragonish? You remember …

  Fragile as a dew-dappled petal, the moment lingered.

  Happiness, Lia said simply. Tears welled up. For me, this place is a joyous melody. You made it so, Qualiana–and you, Sapphurion. I remember how when I fell, you caught me in your paws.

  You’re that girl? It’s really true? The Dragoness’ left paw clenched, the length of it–twice Hualiama’s height–now bridging the small distance between them, a poignant desperation writ in the way her paw cupped Lia’s body, covering her lightly, as though Qualiana trusted not in her eyes, but in the touch of skin to skin.

  It’s true, o Qualiana.

  You spoke with care to protect us in the Dragon Council, said Sapphurion. Suddenly he was up on his paws, looming close, his monstrous forepaw extending to match his mate’s gesture, so that Lia’s prone position came to resemble a butterfly trapped between cupped hands. Qualiana, my life’s veriest breath, even a proud Dragon must learn to bend his hearts. Don’t lose a wing over what I shall say. Bending over the Human girl, he breathed, Hualiama, I regret doubting you, and I’m sorry for how I mistreated both you and my shell-son. Deeply … remorseful.

  Oh thou, my soul’s inspiration! Qualiana nuzzled her mate fondly. I thought thee incapable of such words.

  As had Lia, recalling how Grandion had bristled at an apology. Dragons would catch the plague rather than use the word ‘sorry’, wouldn’t they?

  Sapphurion added, I’ve failed as a father. I sacrificed flesh and blood for political advantage. Rightly you asked what kind of father abandons his only shell-son! Huge as he was, the Blue Dragon whimpered as though wounded. And now I’ve hurt thee, my shell-daughter, and bound thee to Grandion’s fate.

  Smiling as though the suns beamed unadulterated upon her world, Lia assured him, I would choose no other fate … but you know that already, don’t you, Sapphurion? Please don’t hate me for my deeds.

  His eye-fires gushed in their course around his orbs, making her feel dizzy, but the Human girl found she did not dread what she beheld there. Mind-to-mind, he replied, Qualiana will recount for you how I raged and thundered, how I blasted boulders into slag and sharpened my talons upon the edges of cliffs, especially since Grandion spoke so tenderly of you. Truly, I do not understand this mystery. I yearned to kill him, yet my thoughts flew to a different Island. I saw qualities in my shell-son I could never have imagined–by my wings, he blazed with the very nobility you spoke of. And I wondered how this could be? How could such a sin lead to gloriously transformed soul-fires?

  We fear this … relationship … can only end in sorrow, Qualiana confessed.

  Aye. Extending his right wing, Sapphurion drew it over both Lia and his mate, cocooning them in a secret world within the world of their Dragon roost. He whispered, Yet know this, shell-daughter. We would’ve adopted you in a hearts-beat, were it possible. And we promise we shall not be the Dragons to s
tand between you and Grandion, for we believe you must pursue your fate, be it to the ends of our Island-World, or beyond.

  His words enveloped her in warmth, a treasury of emotion revealed by the rich, nuanced Dragonish he spoke from his third heart.

  Fixing her with a burning eye, the Blue Dragon declared, This I vow upon my honour as a Dragon: never again shall I abandon my child. When you find Grandion, Hualiama, tell him I would rather tear out my Dragon-soul than betray him again. If it costs me my position as a leader of Dragons, I care not. Should I lose my life, I care not, for I would rather die with my honour intact.

  Qualiana said, We raised you as our own hatchling for three years. We vow to stand beside you, little one. Do you understand?

  I do, Lia breathed, a song of wonder rising in her heart. And I understand I must teach you something, my shell-parents–if I may call you that?

  You may, they chorused, and rubbed their muzzles together as their laughter spoke of the relief of long-repressed passions. What would our shell-daughter teach us?

  To delight in her fires? asked Qualiana. To join in the beauty of her dance?

  Only what Amaryllion Fireborn taught me–aye, mighty Sapphurion, Lia gulped. I was the trespasser you detected at the Natal Cave. There is something the denizens of this Island-World have made to be profane, which is not. The laws of Humankind and Dragonkind corrupt it into unrecognisable forms. They forbid what is good and wholesome and true.

  The memory of her first touch of Grandion’s muzzle stole her away for a moment. When she returned to herself, the Dragons regarded her with identically puzzled expressions.

  Impulsively, Lia scrambled to her feet. Come, she beckoned them. The rising drumbeat of their hearts generated an audible rush through the great arteries of their necks. I shan’t bite you.

  Lia meant to touch the Dragons each upon the muzzle, just above their nostrils, but her knees buckled mid-motion. She fell against them instead, arms splayed. Mercy! Could she never fail to spoil a significant moment with her clumsiness? Her tiny arms could not hope to encircle their muzzles. Glancing from one flustered Dragon to the other as Sapphurion harrumphed and Qualiana stiffened up until she resembled a gigantic, scaly ruby, Lia found herself ambushed by a fit of giggles, which swelled into Cloudlands-bound river-torrents of joy spilling from her soul. What a delight, that she could stagger tonnes of Dragon with a mere touch!