“You denied me fighting,” said Mirrorwing. “Will you now deny me healing, too? You have your blue flame, and I can assist. What are we doing?”
“If I heal now, they’ll just throw themselves at each other again. I need desperate dragons at death’s door who are ready to bargain.” She carried the latest batch of clay tablets over to a cart abandoned by Hands fleeing the battle. A falling lissair snapped a branch, thrusting leaves into her eyes. I am not dropping these! She bit down, snapped the branch in two, spit out the leaves, and walked on.
“Look around you,” said Mirrorwing. “That time is now.”
Melissa climbed out of the shallow gully beside the stream and took a heavy breath before looking. As a woman, she would’ve seen nothing, but her lissine eyes adjusted too well to the night. The broken bodies of hundreds of maimed Claws dotted the plain. Mercifully she couldn’t see the greater carnage near the Census Stone. The only other life that hadn’t fled were carrion fowl, readying their beaks for a feast.
“I agree,” said Melissa. “Help me with this harness.”
“No. I’ll pull the cart. You heal.”
They rattled along the rough ground to the first casualty, a Red. “I will heal you on two conditions.”
A moan hissed through his mouth. The barely conscious fighter nodded his assent, even though she hadn’t told him to what he was assenting.
“Swear you will cease from all hostilities for one week. Swear also that you will help me gather and treat the wounded, protect them from scavengers, and bury the dead.”
“I sssss-wear.”
Since the sun had set, she would have to heal without its renewing power. Instead of spraying her blue flame liberally, she applied the merest puff to each wound. It sufficed. The lissair rose. His cuts were closed and his tattered wings on the mend. Because of her light treatment, it would be days before he could fly. Alive but not battle-ready. Good. “Write your pledge and inscribe your name.” She handed him a clay tablet. When he was finished, she moved to the next.
After several Reds she met her first Brown, an olissair named Bannirah. For her, Melissa added another condition. “Mirrorwing, give your full attention to her response. Bannirah, have you knowledge of how the Silvers of Garden Isle were betrayed, whether as a participant, conspirator or witness?”
Though the olissair was panting for breath, and coughing up blood, she had the strength to fill her eyes with rage and flare her nostrils with indignation.
“Answer truthfully and live. Or refuse and die.”
The olissair spit blood in her face. “That is my answer!”
Melissa turned to Mirrorwing. “What do you discern?”
Mirrorwing sniffed the injured one. “Innocent.”
Melissa healed Bannirah. “Now sign the pledge.” She handed a clay tablet to the olissair.
Bannirah glared at her and smashed the tablet on the ground.
“My rule is simple,” said Melissa. “When the first Brown refuses to cooperate, I stop healing all sons and daughters of Menagerie. Likewise for the Reds of Blaze. Thousands of your brothers and sisters will die today. Their lives are in your claws. Were thousands of Reds to be saved and thousands of Browns left to perish, you know whom victory would favor.”
Mirrorwing handed Melissa another tablet, and she passed it to the olissair. Bannirah signed it and shoved it back. Melissa stowed it on their cart.
“Now you work for me. Healing, peace and the truth. When I have these three, you will be free, and all Kibota with you.”
They plodded across the moonlit field. To help her stomach the sorry business, Melissa kept no tally of the dead, only the saved. As the force beholden to her grew, she became more efficient. She expended the last of her flame as the first light of dawn crossed the horizon. Her final patient was a Green lissair named G'shoal. They stood in the shadow of the Census Stone. Mirrorwing was quiet.
“Mirrorwing, death and civil war are enough to traumatize, but I see something else in your eyes.”
“We have taken depositions all night long. I was certain I’d hear from a Brown what I did not hear from Tongaroi.”
Melissa felt a tightness in her chest, and her throat became parched. “What do you mean, what you didn’t hear from Tongaroi?”
Mirrorwing turned away.
“Mirrorwing, what have you done?”
He took a swipe at a stone the size of a melon and batted it aside. “Menagerie could have searched harder! Instead they play games with Hands to gain power and technology. They connive and wear deceptive perfumes and, and, and…”
“Was Tongaroi telling the truth? Did he betray your people?”
“He certainly didn’t help us! Our disappearance opened a way for him to come to power! He had to be guilty!” His rage turned inward and he continued in a whisper. “He had to be.” Mirrorwing collapsed on the ground and wept. “Someone had to pay. Someone…”
All that bloodshed, wasted! Futile. Based on a lie. Fury, exhaustion and despair exploded in her bosom. If the ones she trusted could not be relied on, she would heal the world all by herself. She turned toward the fallen Green, but G'shoal was gone. She saw a trail of blood and followed it around a boulder to where the lissair had collapsed, at the end of his strength, with terror in his eyes.
“TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW!” Melissa thrust her claw into an open wound and twisted.
“Aaaaaargh! Hissssss!”
She healed the lissair partway. “Speak.”
Mirrorwing shuffled over. “Forgive me. I brought war upon us and deserve to die.”
“No, this one deserves to die. G'shoal, speak truthfully and you may end this war and earn a pardon. Who betrayed Lord Silverthorn?”
“Poonrapi.”
Melissa put together the pieces. “The Greens accompanied Browns on some of their flights and secretly recorded their conversations with animals on devices obtained from Earth. Then they painted themselves Brown with paint obtained in the same way. I met a Green with patches of Brown paint on her and thought nothing of it. Using reverse psychology they goaded the animals into going where they wanted them to go. But why?”
“Jealousy,” said Mirrorwing. “Poonrapi loved Silverthorn.”
“She couldn’t have him, so no one could.” Murder over jealousy. Who would do that?
She and Mirrorwing stood silent. Despite the deception, Silverthorn commanded a vast network of spies. Why had they failed him? Suddenly she recalled a Green staring lovesick at Poonrapi before the accession, a lissair with a fondness for scratching his back on aromatic thorns capable of masking the scent of his intentions.
She swung her head to face Mirrorwing and at the same time each blurted out: “Genereef!”
The head of the Tongues of Silver was a traitor! “Genereef loves Poonrapi,” said Melissa. “He is with Jessnee and the other Hands, with your fellow Silvers. If he sabotages that…”
“I will alert Lord Anspark and get him to call a truce,” said Mirrorwing. “You are fastest. Warn our friends. Stop Genereef.”
Fastest? Melissa snorted. She could barely stand. The burden of her previous revelation multiplied. Not only had she misjudged White Talon and Anspark, but Tongaroi, Poonrapi and Genereef as well, not to mention Jessnee and Thedarra. The basis for all her plans was crumbling. A doctor can only heal with a proper diagnosis and a trustworthy staff. Nothing was working, nothing was making a difference. “Why? Despite all the wonderful things that came to me from that mysterious seed, everything I touch withers. Here we are, near the Census Stone, a place for counting, for measuring. I have been measured, and I don’t like the tally.”
“When the things you lean on give way,” said Mirrorwing, “something must remain, or we are lost. What do you have left? Count again.”
In the silence, Melissa counted her friends. She put before her mind Shoroko, Jessnee, Thedarra, Callyglip, and Orokolga. They shared one thing in common, and it was something she had given them. She spread her wings. “I have the promise I ma
de.”
“Keep it.”
Melissa waddled a few steps and flapped her wings, barely achieving takeoff. In the light of day, how would she slip past the gauntlet of Browns circling above? Already reinforcements were arriving by the score. The morning sun rejuvenated her. It did one thing more. To the west, coming over the top of a hill, she spied a golden gleam.
Orokolga! Melissa’s eyes raced forward, zoomed in, and her heart raced even faster. Shoroko was slumped forward on the dragoness’ back. No! No! Why aren’t you moving? Get up! Behind them a dust cloud followed close on their heels. A rain shower beat the dust down to reveal a galloping army of jummaxes, led by their hlisskans. It was clear who was in charge.
Chapter 37: Knock, Knock
April 28th. The Census Stone.
A dancing, teal wisp locked arms with a second wisp and twirled. The long-haired wisp glowed with delight and dimpled a dreamy flash, buffeting Shoroko’s face with a wave of warmth. One by one, the thousand needles of pain which had sent him into shock made a brief reappearance, were plucked out, and remembered no more. He closed his eyes and whispered, “Melissa.”
The steam from her mouth told him she was leaning in close to hear him, close enough to kiss, but that’d be weird. One last pain needle awoke, centered over his chest. It wouldn’t leave. He moaned.
“What’s wrong? Did I miss a spot?”
Shoroko opened his eyes. His dragon lady was lifting up each of his limbs in turn, sniffing, poking her claws to spread the tears in his clothing and examine him. Thoroughly. “Hey, leave a little modesty intact, will you?” He wheezed. “It’s my chest.”
Buttons and claws don’t play well together, so some on his shirt didn’t survive the ordeal. A swollen rash encircled a closed wound near his heart.
“Did you get stuck by a poisoned barb?”
“I don’t remember. Riding a jummax for several days straight…”
Melissa sneezed and pulled her snout back, made a face and snickered.
“Yeah, now I’m the one who smells. Real funny. It’s not like I could hop down and relieve myself! Orokolga tossed me food and water, but my strength failed after we passed Redbridge. I don’t remember much after that. Where are those toothy pests, anyway?”
Melissa was surrounded by a hundred Claws she’d healed, expecting a fight, but for all their anger at Shoroko for subduing their hlisskan, the alissaren had a higher priority. The herd of jawmaxtons passed them by running straight for the Census Stone.
“I remember.” Shoroko wheezed. “They’re going to smash the stone.”
Melissa pointed a claw at the huge mesa. “That monstrosity? They are dumb.”
“I might have let slip about a secret entrance to an underground network of tunnels and machines.”
“You what? Wait, I didn’t find where it is until I went to White Talon’s cave, so how–”
“You showed it to me in a dream.” He described the location.
“But I need that portal to save Silverthorn and Kilgain!” She watched the dust cloud of jummaxes recede. “What were you thinking!”
“The head jummax said to me, ‘Mesa too big to destroy, do you think us dumb?’ I had to tell them about the entrance or they’d raze croplands and break our deal.”
“And eat you?”
“That too. Owwww!” Searing pain assailed his chest. Shoroko fumbled around, found his sheath and pulled out his unicorn blade. A tiny piece of the tip had chipped off. Dead by my own knife. The unicorns will get their revenge. He slid it back into his sheath and panted, drenched in sweat.
“You’re feverish,” said Melissa. “What is it?”
“His new blade was made from a unicorn’s horn,” said Orokolga. “The fragment in his chest will burrow in until it pierces his heart.”
“How long do we have?” screeched Melissa.
Orokolga walked away. “I will leave you two alone.”
Melissa charged about, yanking weeds out of thickets, sniffing wildflowers, and ripping saplings from the ground to taste their roots. “There has to be an herb for this!”
“You can squint and strain your brain all you want, but if you’re trying to get advice from the vegetable kingdom, give up. They’ll tell you what I already know; you can’t get it out.”
Melissa stood over Shoroko. He recognized the look. She’s going to try that mind force trick she used on the barge. “Don’t!” He felt the horn shard pull against his ribcage. “Eeeeeeeeeeeyaaaah!” He clutched his chest. The sore opened and blood spurted out.
“No! I’m killing you!” She hastily doused him with more flame to close up the wound.
His breathing slowed and the grimace on his face changed to a pained but peaceful smile. “This is good.”
“Good? What’s good?” Melissa dropped onto her belly and leaned close.
“I diverted the migration and saved hundreds of lives, and I get to die beside someone I love. Much better than finishing up in a poisoned delirium in White Talon’s cave like I expected.” He held onto that thought to keep the agony at bay. While he lay on his back, past Melissa’s head he saw the birds swirling about the Census Stone. It made him dizzy.
She growled. “You have the look. Stop it!”
“What look?”
“My mother had that same look when she was dying. She refused to ask me for help. Said it was her time. Don’t give up! Let me help you! Please!”
Shoroko avoided her gaze and watched the birds and the Census Stone below them. The circulating feathery mass sent him into a trance, and he blurted the first words that splashed into his thought-stream. “I lift my eyes toward the mountains. Where will my help come from?”
“From me!” Melissa sobbed, then said softly, “your help will come from me.” Tears fell from her pleading eyes onto his chest, but they had no magic in them.
A hole parted in the midst of the birds to reveal a speck floating up high. “What’s that?” Shoroko blinked and stared in awe.
Melissa gave a quick look. “I don’t see anything.” She jerked her head back. “Seeing things? In the sky?” She pushed his head to the side with her paw. “I looked through a window into eternity and ended up here. Don’t look! I won’t let you leave me!”
Shoroko squirmed from her grasp. Dragons are so melodramatic. This could be my last chance to really annoy her. He cleared his throat, put on his most serene face and sang in his most ethereal voice:
"I return to the world
that we came from,
Where I'll walk upon
Earth's sandy shores,
Climb upon
much higher mountains,
But see fair Kibota
no more."
Melissa froze, breathing heavily. He couldn’t keep his straight face very long.
“I’m pouring out my heart here and you think it’s funny?” She inhaled deeply and the orange tendrils that seeped through her jaws made his fever moot.
He closed his eyes and winced. When he opened them, the speck in the air was closer. “Huh. What’s that story Jessnee tells his daughter? About the guy with a magic lamp and a flying carpet.”
“Aladdin?”
“Yes, him. I see his carpet. Look.” He pointed.
Now she saw it. “It’s part of my floating garden in the sky. I made it so the birds would leave Rampart alone. Those beaks were really hungry if that’s all that’s left.”
They gaped while the green carpet dipped and weaved to avoid more hungry beaks until it settled in their midst. The center of the one lissta square mat of intertwined grass, roots and dirt was graced by a single stalk sporting a bud.
“It’s calling to me,” said Melissa. She breathed gently upon it and the petals unfurled to reveal a white flower.
The stench of battle and death receded and the smell of streams in spring and bees with honey and muffins fresh from the oven comforted his nose.
Melissa plucked a leaf and put it on Shoroko’s wound.
The wound pulsed. Soon after
a gopher-like pest popped out of his chest, rolled across his belly, found his sheath and reattached itself to his blade. Shoroko picked up the leaf, twirled it in his fingers and said, “I was wrong. I guess the vegetables did have something to say.” He heard a whisper. “What’s that?” He put the leaf to his ear and listened.
“What’s it saying?” Melissa leaned in.
He batted her snout aside. “So nosy. It’s a private message.”
“From whom? Or is this another of your cruel jokes?”
Shoroko listened some more. “Fine. She says she’ll talk to you.” He handed her the leaf.
“Who?”
“Shorascal.”
* * *
Melissa tried to grasp the tiny leaf, but the breeze caught it. She nearly put her eye out trying to catch it. It settled on top of her snout. She heard, but unlike Shoroko, also saw. She saw a little girl riding her hornless white unicorn, plucking flowers, and kissing her seeds.
“This seed was for my bother,” said Shorassa, “I mean my brother. I sent it so I could be part of his adventure. You already found your seed. I sent it to one friend, but now I have two, you and White Talon. Take care of him, and think of me on your special day. One last thing: remember what a seed is for.”
Melissa handed the leaf back to Shoroko. “No, you were right. It was not the trees that had the answer, it was a sister’s love. I wish I’d been able to meet her. What did she tell you?”
“All she said was, ‘Snow isn’t happy about how you used her horn.’”
“That’s why the blade fragment left your chest. The unicorn Snow was a friend of Shorassa’s. Your sister sure knew how to make friends.”
Melissa saw two lissairn approaching, a White from the south and a Silver from the north. The Claws in her vicinity cleared a space and they landed. “Soorararas, Mirrorwing, what news have you from the battle?”
Mirrorwing spoke first. “Anspark and Tongaroi made peace, but with so many casualties, they are barely holding on. With her deception known, Poonrapi now fights against both Blaze and Menagerie. She just captured the ground atop the Census Stone.”
A Most Refined Dragon Page 40
