A Most Refined Dragon

by Paul Chernoch

  “The Lissai species preservation apparatus brought the moskats here,” said Melissa. “It had nothing to do with secret innate genetic, space-warping capabilities. After getting you through the portal once, these animals appear useless for anything else. Why chase them?”

  “Because of the failsafe,” said Ren Fa. “R.J. found it described in the schematics he purloined. The portals are two-way, and the Lissai didn’t want hlisskans wandering back to earth. If an incoming hlisskan accidentally opens the way for a nearby hlisskan of another species to hop to earth, they have to fetch it back again. Every hour for the next several weeks the machine will open another portal, locate the missing hlisskan, and call it back. Each new portal will appear in the spot where it was detected during the last opening.”

  “This helps you how?” asked Genereef.

  “Back on earth, we discovered the hlisskan beacon signal and learned how to block it. All hlisskans emit this signal, but if blocked, the Census Stone cannot find the hlisskan and will open in the same spot repeatedly, and fail to retrieve the animal.”

  “A two-way tunnel,” said Melissa. “Brilliant.”

  “Without it, it’s hit or miss. You never know exactly when the portal will open, or where. On the Kibota side, it’s worse. We think there are twelve entry points where portals can open. If one gets blocked by a natural obstruction, the next may be free. The portals are chosen in a simple cycle, which would be fine, except…”

  “Except what?”

  R.J. cleared his throat. “The Chinese.”

  “And the Germans,” said Ren Fa. “Our lab in America is the only one that’s sent people through so far. These others spied on us to get the genetic techniques down, but they don’t have the intel on Kibota that we’ve sent back. Two portals are on Garden Isle: most deadly.”

  “Whenever they extinctify another species, the portal jumps to the next spot in the lineup,” said R.J. “Their experiments are irregular, so we are never sure where the next traveler will show up. We have the next portal narrowed down to three locations. One is in Red Home; forget that. One is at Menagerie Heights. We have a pair of moskats ready to send there, if we get lucky.”

  “And the third is at the Census Stone,” said Ren Fa.

  “When do you expect the portal to open?” said Genereef.

  “Tomorrow,” said Ren Fa.

  “I cannot allow this,” said Mirrorwing. “Hlissosak Anspark will agree with me, and Hlissak Tongaroi would never–”

  “But he has,” said Ren Fa. “Lord Tongaroi knows what we’ve planned, and he insists. Our scientists can repair the equipment; his cannot. We fix his machines and teach him how to construct and maintain new ones. That was the deal. The United States will obtain what everyone else can only dream of: instantaneous interstellar transportation.”

  “And so will Menagerie,” said Melissa. “What do we do?”

  * * *

  Arguing turned to sitting. As they descended the river, its channel grew wide and deep. They hugged the northern shore, just far enough into the current to avoid getting tangled in the reeds. To the northeast a speck became a spike. They were approaching the Census Stone. The water opened up into a delta. Sky Port was on an island in the middle, but they took the northernmost fork and made for the docks at Rock Point. The rest of the journey would be on foot. When the top of the weather tower came into view, the crew gave a big whoop and pat their harpoons. The man on lookout took a crust of bread from his pocket, tapped it on each shoulder, then his forehead, before kissing it and tossing it in the brackish water. As they neared the sea the waves got choppier and Melissa became queasy. She flew off to explore. A dozen raucous gulls screamed by in pursuit of a fellow who’d nabbed an oversized fish and was fleeing to eat it alone. One bird got a whiff of her as it passed, landed on Melissa’s back and began pecking at a morsel of food stuck where she couldn’t see it. The hammering beak tickled, so she tried to shiver the bird off. When that failed, she went into a steep dive. That was when she saw eyes protruding from the river amidst the marsh grasses, staring at the barge. An instant later, they sank beneath the water.

  Melissa spewed fire to get the crew’s attention and streaked toward the endangered vessel. They heeded her warning and ran to the harpoons. The water exploded. A head as large as Melissa’s whole body broke the surface, shot up and arced over the ship, with its serpentine body following behind.

  “Coilangi!” shouted the captain. “Fire!”

  The clanking recoil of ten harpoons assailed her ears. Every shot was true, but the momentum of the beast’s leap snapped their cables, leaving the hooks sticking out of the slippery hide. The hooks joined hundreds already protruding from the creature’s side. It was not just any coilangi, it was the immortal River Lord. It wore its gold, ruffled crest like a crown. This was no snake; it had two front arms for grabbing, which seized the cabin as it flew over. The torque spun the vessel until it capsized, sending everyone into the water. Genereef and Mirrorwing cleared the deck and took to the air instants before the river claimed them. The monster coiled about the barge, flexed its muscles and split the hull in two, spilling the cargo.

  Jessnee swam to the crate holding the portal equipment and grabbed on. He found a floating rope, tied it to the crate, and tossed the free end to Mirrorwing. The Silver towed the crate in a zigzag until half the passengers and crew got a handhold, then flapped his mighty wings and sprinted toward shore, before the River Lord could refocus its attack on the survivors.

  The two nearest Silvers beside Mirrorwing flew in to rescue individuals, and the water was soon clear of all Hands but one: Thedarra. There was no time for a search, so Melissa dove into the river. The muddy current and bottom grasses made seeing difficult, so she made herself still. She heard two sounds: a loud whooshing, and the faint sound of bubbles. She swam toward the latter and found Thedarra straining to free herself from a tangle of rope, sail sheet, and clothing. The olissair slithered over, slit the cloth with her claws, and pushed Thedarra from underneath.

  A claw clubbed her head, stunning her. Constricting coils wrapped about her chest. Were her bones tougher than the ship? Summoning all her augmented strength, she sunk her claws into the side of the coilangi and dragged herself, one foot at a time, across the side of the beast, like a mountain climber sinking pitons into a rock face. She almost escaped the slimy embrace when the monster rose up, broke the surface and brought its head near so it could chomp down on its painful prey. The mouth opened and the impossible rows of teeth stood at the ready.

  “No!” gurgled the River Lord in its grotesque voice. It loosened its coils and Melissa dropped into the water, free. “You were off the boat!” An unpronounceable roar followed. “Foolish cousin. You flyers can’t swim. Go away.”

  Melissa wheezed while her lungs regained their function. “You… didn’t… kill… me… Why?” She coughed up blood.

  “Caller demands it. River Lord did not kill you on your raft on the Faithful River. That should have been enough. Too hard to check every bite to see who it is. You should not fly so far, stupid cousin. Next time, River Lord will eat you.” It shook its head and prepared to dive.

  “Wait! You can’t eat me, but it’s okay to eat my friends?”

  “Friends? What is ‘friends’? There is River Lord, and baby coilangi, and food. And Caller. That is all.”

  “Did the Caller say why you should let me live?”

  “That is Caller’s business.” The River Lord saw Thedarra swimming to shore and began slithering toward her.

  “No! I need her!” said Melissa.

  “You want to eat her, too? I am stronger. Find your own food.”

  “Do you like having to visit the Census Stone?”

  It stopped slithering and turned. “No animal likes stone.”

  “My friend – your food – is going with me to stop the call. We want to stop the Census Stone from calling.”

  “You can do this?”

  “I’ll try 'til I succeed or I d
ie.”

  It swished its head back and forth between Thedarra and Melissa. “You swim in my river. You are fool. No fool can stop the call.” It smiled. “If you win, I get to eat you next time. Much more meat on you than little girl. Do not die, silly cousin. Come back for a swim.” The River Lord dove and the ripples from its wake lapped upon the shore where the survivors gathered. Thedarra held Melissa's mane and she towed the woman toward shore.

  Thedarra’s teeth chattered. “F-f-finally.”

  “Finally what?” When the woman didn’t respond, Melissa continued. “Thank you for standing by me, Thedarra. After all the harm…”

  “F-f-forgiven. S-stupid Shorassa. Always r-right.”

  “Huh?” Melissa turned her head and sprayed a fine flame about, drying off the unsubmerged portion of her rider.

  “Day and night I was with her after Shoroko left. Awoke only once. Insisted I join the work crew about to leave. Made me promise to help the Rainbow Bride. Told me I’d never be happy unless I did.”

  “Bossy girl.”

  “That dreamer almost got me killed – or worse.”

  The long silence that followed would end a normal conversation, but Melissa’s nose for truth and trouble was too keen. Sniff, sniff. “What did those farmhands do to you? I’ll fry them!”

  “Two of them followed me early one morning as I went to bathe. I was terrified, but they left me alone. I didn’t find out why until the trial.”

  “The men that accosted you in Four Rivers?”

  “When I saw the look on Cally’s face when he tackled that man by the river, I knew the attack had nothing to do with disrupting the trial. He was hiding something. I refused to kiss him again until he gave in.”

  Melissa felt a fish graze her chest. She opened her mouth to chomp, but the dive would swamp Thedarra. She gnashed her teeth and let it pass. “How long did he hold out? Two minutes?”

  “Two days. He waited until he could get off a telegram to warn my family. During the work detail, the day before we found you, Callyglip followed the farmhands and made noise to scare them off. They found out it was him and beat him up. I thought the cuts and burns were from cooking accidents. Said if he ever told anyone, they’d burn down my farm and… He never talked, but he also never left my side after that. I thought he was creepy. What he was was my protector. The men in town were cousins of the farmhands. Shorassa’s bossiness and your jealousy found my hero.”

  “You still didn’t tell me what you meant by ‘finally’.”

  “I told Shorassa I wouldn’t do what she asked without a sign. She said I’d be protected until the Rainbow Bride saved my life. That was the only thing that kept me going. You finally saved me today.”

  “You really trusted her.”

  “Yes, but she didn’t say what happens after you save me. Now I am afraid.”

  It was a long swim for an injured olissair, so it was sunset before she crawled out of the surf and lay panting on the beach.

  Squeak. The moskats were happy to see her.

  She squeaked back and fell asleep.

  * * *

  The conversations around Melissa filtered into her dreams. While on patrol, one of the Silvers exchanged news with a Brown. Shoroko had crossed the bridge at the head of a jawmaxton army, and one cocky lizard boasted in earshot of a Brown about how they were going to smash the Census Stone. The southern herd would arrive at the stone tomorrow, and Blaze and Menagerie were united in their determination to frustrate those plans.

  Water lapping against the shore crystalized into a mirrored pool in her imagination. Melissa gazed at her reflection. First, it was her old, black-haired self. Then it shifted, and she saw herself as an olissair, wings spread and shimmering like a rainbow. But behind her reflected image she saw Shoroko steering rukhs and commanding his alissaren army and Browns directing a horde of captive creatures on a rampage. And the mysterious Caller? It had no form, but all around its stone creatures of air, land and sea bowed and did its bidding.

  Melissa could talk to animals, but not command them. She craved the authority enjoyed by the others in her dream. The order! The peace! Diseases would dissipate. Abundant crops would grow. Justice would be enforced.

  Instead of power, her reflection showed her as a little girl on a couch while her mother read from a book. “If your eye is bad, your whole body will be full of darkness. So if the light within you is darkness — how deep is that darkness.”

  When Melissa looked at the reflection again, she was a Lissai once more, but her wings no longer shone. She had lost the light within.

  Chapter 36: The Census

  April 27th. The Census Stone.

  Near the Census Stone, the lords of the air walked. Flying was possible only for large formations of Lissai, because the sky was as teeming with creatures as the ground, but there was farther to fall. Ancient elevated roads crisscrossed the plain before the mesa. Migrating beasts walked two lisstai below, while Claws scurried along wide avenues to fulfill their duties. These roads were covered in canopies of glass and steel, bright and safe from attack.

  Melissa walked with Mirrorwing and Parassam, the latter on a mission from Mistfire. Melissa had sent the rest of the Silvers with Genereef, Jessnee and the other Hands around the east side of the stone. Hopefully they’d reach the secret entrance to the underground works north of the stone unchallenged while all eyes were on her to the west. Despite her dream, the hue of her wings shifted like an aurora, first white, then pale green, then full-on rainbow, like an oil-slick draped on a fashion model.

  “You named me Prism,” said Parassam. “That name landed on the wrong Claw.”

  Melissa was not in a talkative mood. Parassam arrived at dawn to discuss rumors. She told him of K'Fuur’s suspicion and K'Pinkelek’s observation, and the mystery of their absence. He insisted they immediately confront Hlissosak Anspark and give him the chance to answer the charges. When had any American politicians ever admitted to drinking their enemy’s blood? Accusing the leader of an entire world of dark crimes to his face was suicide. The only words for strong, power-mad dragons surrounded by their armies were “Yes, sir”, “No, sir”, and “I don’t know, sir”. Yet the hlissak of the Whites was behind Parassam’s request, so honor and the prospect of getting on the good side of at least one klatch dictated obeisance.

  Being close to the stone relaxed its pull on her. Likewise, the mad stampeding below had become a slow circulating march up to the stone from the southwest and away again to the northwest. Her own northwest course would bring her into the midst of the field, to a low, fortified hill where the hlissosak encamped behind stone walls. Any hour Shoroko should pass those walls at the head of his army, her last shred of confidence.

  “The animals grow calm,” said Melissa, “while we grow restive.”

  “They begin their journey home,” said Parassam. “Our own homes are unsettled.” He gentled his voice. “Or out of reach.”

  “On Earth, I left my home, searching for someone with whom to make a new one. I never found him there. Empty or full, this world is now my home.” Melissa cast her eyes abroad and lost herself in the grand parade of elk, saber tooth, lumbering tortoise and furry hopping things. Up close, the stone was a masterpiece. Reliefs of every bird and beast on the planet were carved into its surface. Each animal walked or flew to its image and touched paw or beak to stone. A tiny light glowed beside the image and the creature was dismissed. The smaller creatures and the fleet of foot climbed stony paths to images midway up the rock face, birds lit near the summit, while the larger creatures found their spots along the ground. Claws with clipboards took notes, estimated population sizes and looked for new arrivals in need of fresh carvings. Any other year, seeing Browns greeting each species in its own tongue would have been comforting, but now the routine was threatening to watch. Were they conspiring to conquer the world, enlisting all nature to their cause?

  They reached Anspark’s camp. As they negotiated an audience with the hlissosak, Melissa looke
d out over the plain, west and south, to the full limit of her vision. He was not there, yet a strange warmth dribbled into her heart. I want you, it seemed to say. Come to me. We will never be alone again. We will build our house where none can break in. I will make you a great queen, and no one will walk or ride or fly in all our lands except by your consent. We will rest from our journeys at last. Come!

  She felt herself edging to the side of the road. She would jump over the railing, and fly and fly and find him. She would lift him from the back of his terrible mount and carry him far away. She would…

  “You may speak with our Lord, the Hlissosak. Follow me.” Elek-Mouton broke the spell. She would go to Anspark, not Shoroko.

  The fortress accommodated three hundred Claws. Unadorned, moss-covered stone walls ringed the hill. In the center stood eight pillars in a square. They supported a gently sloping, flat stone roof, with walls of flapping canvas to keep the rain off the injured recuperating there. Beneath the hill a great cellar held food, liosh, medicinal herbs and the outlet to a spring. The elevated road sloped up to an open wooden gate followed by a wide stair that wound around the hill before reaching the quarters on top.

  At the summit, a path was cleared so the three could approach Anspark, seated outside in a corner atop a flat rock. Melissa entered behind Mirrorwing and Parassam. When they parted, she reluctantly moved to the front. It was her challenge to give.

  “Venerable Hlissosak Anspark, hatched of Ganstomp and Linfronor, who together held the last pass to Red Home, in life an open door to their people, and in death a wall of refuge, may you live and die with even greater honor.” Melissa bowed and waited.

  Unlike some prominent, bejeweled Claws, Anspark wore only a vest, red, to match the color of his hide. Protruding from it were hundreds of lissine teeth. Melissa had never seen its like.

  “Do you marvel at my shirt?” said Anspark. “I’ve heard tales of your world, how victors wear tokens of the foes they’ve conquered, whether animals or men. Mine is not like that. Each tooth belonged to a klatch-mate who died under my command. Each death makes my garment more painful to wear, to remind me of the consequences of my decisions. I honor their sacrifice. Do you truly come today to honor me? Or will you add another tooth?”